


atonement

by Lackyducks, RunawayCaboose



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Grand Theft Auto Setting, Anxiety, Blood, Depression, Drowning, FakeHaus, Hurt/Comfort, Immortality, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Mentions of Suicide, Multi, Murder, Panic Attacks, Slavery, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-14
Updated: 2016-08-14
Packaged: 2018-08-08 19:07:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 50,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7769584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lackyducks/pseuds/Lackyducks, https://archiveofourown.org/users/RunawayCaboose/pseuds/RunawayCaboose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>atonement (noun): reparation for a wrong or injury. </p><p>when you've been around for as long as they have, you have a lot to make up for, a lot of mistakes to make right. that's what most people would try to do, try to repay the universe for this gift of immortality. but what would a group of eight people do? try to bring the world to its knees in front of them, most likely.</p>
            </blockquote>





	atonement

It starts, like not a lot of things, with a robbery.

Adam Kovic is working at a corner store, a tiny store on the outskirts of Los Santos, flickering fluorescent lights and cracked tiles both in the ceiling and on the floor. Nothing ever happens, it’s so fucking boring and monotonous, but he has to support his less than legal activities somehow. It’s not like you can just rob a place, no, there has to be planning and weaponry and a ton of other shit that costs actual money. He still hates it, this place that seems like it’s in the middle of a dream, fogged up windows and barely working lights and the ring of the cash register when it nears midnight, something that Adam can’t figure out why it happens and something that Adam can’t stop. It would probably creep him out if he cared.

A middle aged man walks in, wearing cargo shorts and a t-shirt for a band and Adam is pretty sure that at least half the people in the band have died. Adam says the greeting, begrudgingly, he’s too tired for this, and the man nods in response, pulling a gun from his pocket.

“Hey, I know it’s late, so we should probably just get this over with.” The man says and Adam groans. It’s a knee jerk reaction, but definitely not the best one to have when there’s somebody with a gun threatening him.

“Are you really robbing me?” He asks, skeptical even though there is a gun pointed at his chest. His hands search underneath the counter, looking for the gun the owner told him to shoot any threat with, especially if they were wearing a turban. Yep, okay, he was racist, so racist, but right now Adam just wants to not die.

“No, I’m just pointing this gun at you for no reason.” The man rolls his eyes in annoyance. “Yes, I’m robbing you. Give me all your money. Any other stereotypical robber sayings you want me to s- Oh, Twinkies!” Adam watches as the man turns, marvelling over the snack rack. Adam’s fingers meet the biting metal of the gun and his hand closes around it. “I thought they stopped making these! How did you get them? Who’s your suppl-” He stops mid-sentence as a bullet enters his chest, red patches blooming on his stupid shirt. Adam puts the gun down as he watches the would-be robber fall, spluttering. A sick feeling comes over him, he killed this man, oh, fuck. It was in self-defense, but, fuck, this guy is dead and there is blood on the floor and the owner is going to be so mad at him and he’s going to get fired and there’s a dead body right there.

And then the man sits up, staring at Adam, as his hand comes away from his chest stained red. 

“You know, I wasn’t really planning on dying tonight.” He glares at Adam as he stands, shakily. “I’m taking all your Twinkies.” Adam just watches, dumbfounded, as the man gathers all the Twinkies into his arms, cellophane crinkling as they mash together. He shakes his head at Adam one last time before he walks out the doors.

“What the fuck.” Adam says, under his breath. “What the fuck was that?” It takes a few more minutes for Adam to be able to move and he mops the blood up. He tries to put it out of his mind, it didn’t happen, it’s fine, he’s just hallucinating because he’s tired. He closes the shop early and doesn’t care if his pay gets docked.

The next night, band man is there again, arms full of Twinkies, and Adam sighs as he walks in through the automatic doors.

“What, no greeting for me?” He dumps all the snack cakes onto the counter. “Also, I brought these back for you. They’re disgusting. Did you know they were disgusting?”

“Maybe?” Adam offers. The man huffs.

“How could you let me take them then? I thought we were friends.” The man, Adam notices, is wearing a different band shirt. Today, all of the people on it are dead.

“You literally tried to rob my store, got shot, apparently died, and walked away.” Adam argues and holy shit, how is this guy talking to him right now? He’s got to be a ghost, one of those ‘clean up your act or you’ll end up like me’ spirits and Adam doesn’t want to wear stupid band t-shirts and shorts with too many pockets.

“I only let my friends kill me.” The man answers, grinning. “I’d say we’re pretty okay friends. My name’s Bruce.”

“Adam.” He answers, warily, because fucking shit if this turns out like a horror movie he’s running away, as if Bruce’s fashion sense wasn’t scary enough. 

“Cool.” Bruce nods, leaning across the counter. “You want to go rob a place?”

“Excuse me?” Adam asks, this ghost-man smiles again. Adam half-expects him to turn translucent and fade through the walls at any given moment. 

“Oh, come on, Kovic. I’ve seen your work, I know what you do.” Bruce is tapping his fingers against the vinyl countertop. “You’re okay at it. And you haven’t died yet. So, I’ll ask again. You want to go rob a place?”

“Ugh, fine.” Adam groans because maybe he didn’t have a death wish yesterday, but today he doesn’t really feel like fighting against death. If it comes, he’ll take it, if it doesn’t, he’s stuck with Ghost-man and he’ll be prepared for hell when death finally comes around.

Hanging out with Ghost-man, who he should probably start calling Bruce, doesn’t end up actually being that bad and they only rob one or two places before Bruce drags Adam back to his apartment to play video games. 

It’s weird, but they bond, and Bruce keeps showing up at the convenience store at three A.M. with coffee and a special hatred reserved for the Twinkies on the snack rack.

“We should start a crew.” Bruce says one night and Adam chokes on his coffee.

“With two people?” Adam asks, incredulous. “Bruce, honey, sweetie, darling, I would die. How ever would you be able to live without me?”

“No, not with two people.” Bruce says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world and it probably is. “We just get our names out there, y’know? Let people know that we’re here and we’re looking. I’m already known in the underground and you’re the up and coming guy that hangs around me sometimes. We’re like an underdog story, no one expects us to make a difference, but we will.”

“I swear to God, if you say what I think you’re going to sa-”

“Like Air Bud!” Bruce cheers, nearly spilling his coffee all over Adam.

“Greene, I will fucking kill you! That movie is horrible! Dogs aren’t like that! And they’re all really Goddamn racist.”

“I’ll stop referencing it if you start a crew with me.” Bruce offers and Adam sighs.

“Fine. No more Air Bud. Ever. It’s banned.” Adam demands and Bruce shakes his hand, sealing the deal.

“But we’re still going to be underdogs. Like in Snow Buddies. Or The Search for Santa Paws. Or Treasure Buddies. Or Space Buddies. Or Santa Paws 2: The Search for Santa Pups.” Bruce watches as Adam loses his will to live with every movie title, not that he had much in the beginning, but it’s definitely in the negative now.

“I fucking hate you.” And it’s the start of a beautiful partnership. 

They get their names out there, little by little, and it’s not a lot, but it’s a start. People know them, see them in the underground and whisper. Mostly the whispers are about how they’ve absolutely got to be fucking, but it’s still letting people know they exist. Any publicity is good publicity, after all.

They haven’t heard of any other immortals, but their ears are to the ground and they’re waiting for the slightest murmur, tiniest hint of any other ones. It scares Bruce that they’re not hearing anything yet and there’s the tiniest thought that he could be the last of his kind and it fucking horrifies him. He does his best not to think about it.

They come home one night from a simple job, a Take and Torch, and the smell of smoke clings to their clothes and skin like a trailing cloak. They’re tired, bone tired, and they walk into the apartment slowly. Bruce flicks on the light and he screams, there’s somebody in their kitchen, a woman, shaking her head at them.

“How did you get in here?” Bruce asks once he recovers his breath.

“Bitch, I invented the door, you think I can’t open one?” She asks and Adam blinks at her.

“Wait, did you actually?” Adam asks, skeptical and weirdly hopeful. There are a few beats of silence.

“No, but I did break in.” She grins at them, resting her elbows on the counter. “I heard you were looking for people like me. I just can’t seem to stay dead, I’m sure you know how that feels. It seems like a good opportunity. I’m joining your crew.” Bruce shoots her in the head, single shot, single bullet, and she topples over, blood spraying everywhere. Adam looks from where she used to stand, to Bruce, and back to where she fell. She stands up a few seconds later, groaning and rubbing her temples.

“Welcome to the team.” Bruce smiles. “I’m Bruce, this is Adam.”

“Elyse.” She answers. “Is that like an initiation or something? Shooting people? Did you shoot Adam?”

“He shot me.” Bruce answers. “I’m afraid if I shoot him, he’ll die.”

“Eh, probably.” Adam shrugs. “But please clean the blood off the cabinets before it stains. I actually kind of like them.”

“Fine, whatever, I see how it is. Get a new recruit and treat her like a slave.” Elyse rolls her eyes.

“For the record, I meant Bruce. You can do whatever you want as long as you stick around and kill people when we tell you to.” Adam explains.

“Sweet.” Elyse pumps her fist in the air. “This is going to be so much better than it was with Al Capone.” They both look at her and she shrugs. “What? Being a booze runner was so much fun. I mean, I had to hide my gender and shit, but still. Fun. Got to shoot some people. Got drunk a lot.”

Elyse is good with a gun, scarily good. Guns are already scary, but she makes them fucking traumatizing. 

Three people are apparently more powerful than two and now the whispers are about how Elyse fits in with two super gay guys, but, hey. It’s still publicity.

Adam and Bruce still take care of most of the deals, the contracting, Elyse is their scare tactic and they love her too much for their own good and for her’s too, probably.

They get home one day from a talk, simple talk, telling smaller crews to back the fuck off and punching some people. Adam’s lip is split and there’s blood smeared on his face and there’s a guy going through their fridge while Elyse sits on the counter, watching him.

“You know, I feel like we should actually conduct a hiring process instead of just letting people show up in our apartment.” Bruce remarks and Elyse twists, looking at him.

“What’s up, Brucey-Bruce? I picked this guy up off the streets.” Elyse smiles.

“Why do you do this, Elyse? And who the hell are you, dude?” Adam asks and the guy turns around, shaking his head.

“Why do you have so many Twinkies? This is disgusting, I’m so disappointed in you.” He shakes his head.

“It was a joke that went too far.” Bruce murmurs. They don’t need to be reminded about the Twinkie Incident. “But who are you?”

“He’s James, my husband.” Elyse explains.

“You’re married?” Adam asks, burying his face in his hands. “This is going to go so well. I’m gonna get killed. Perfect.”

“He’s mad because I found hot guys first and he wants to join the crew to hang out with you guys.” With a simple motion, she shoots James in the chest and there is silence in the after-math of the gunshot.

“What the fuck, Elyse?” Adam shouts. “Why’d you shoot him in our kitchen?”

“Initiation.” She shrugs and Adam blinks. He had kind of forgotten about that. Elyse scares him sometimes even if she’s probably the nicest person he has ever met. James stands up, using the counter for leverage. “He’s in now, right? He’s going to be bitter if he’s not, just saying..”

“Sure.” Adam says, running his hands through his hair. “But can we please stop killing people in the kitchen? It’s unsanitary. Like, please. There’s blood in the fridge now, oh my God. Somebody get the blood out of the vegetable crisper.”

James fits in well. Somewhere along the way he finds out that they don’t know if Adam’s immortal or not (in the middle of a firefight, no less) and he devotes his life to being Adam’s ever faithful meat shield. Adam hates it and he doesn’t say anything, he understands, he fucking understands. These three people, these three wonderful, amazing, incredible people, they’ve died before, they know the pain and then the instant snap of darkness before being pushed into the light, but they’re worried that, for Adam, the snap of darkness will go on forever and he’ll never see the light again. Adam would be lying if he said he wasn’t scared about that too. 

And there are rumours in the streets, whisperings, speculation. How could they be alive? They should be long dead and long buried and long rotting.

They’re relaxing in the apartment, James searching for something in the cupboards, Bruce and Adam both sitting at the counter, drawing out plans and sketches and trying to figure out exactly how they’ll pull off this heist with four people. 

“Logically, there’s no way that this can happen.” Adam argues, tapping the pen against the fake stone. It’s a tiny rhythm, the smallest repetition, and some of the tension eases out of Adam. He leans back in his chair. “James can’t be in two places at once. Three if he demands to be by my side.”

“I do.” James lifts his head, suddenly, looking between Bruce and Adam. “I really do.”

“Well, then- I guess- No.” Bruce huffs, infuriated, looking down at the sketchily laid out plan. He runs a hand through his hair. “If we could fake out the police, then maybe? Like, do some crazy fuckin’ tech stuff over here, fake a sniper or two in these buildings-” He draws two red x’s on the paper. “-we might be able to actually live, get the money, and not get caught while fleeing. If we’re like, really fucking lucky and everything goes perfectly.”

“Not going to happen though.” Adam buries his face in his hands, why does crime have to be so hard? It could be so much easier, really. “We plan with a margin of error, it’s why we have it, so if something goes wrong, we don’t die. We kind of need it. And none of us are that good at tech. You think I’m good at it because I run an aesthetic tumblr.”

“With three thousand followers!” James points out, nodding quickly. “That means people like you and you must be doing something right!”

“I literally only post pictures of flowers and neon and black clothing.” Adam shakes his head. “That doesn’t mean I can whip up some Inspector Gadget level shit.”

“Don’t forget the piercings!” James adds, looking far too enthusiastic. Adam looks at him, narrowing his eyes. James shrugs. “What? I may be one of those three thousand followers. You don’t know my Earl.” Adam shakes his head, sighing.

“James…. It’s URL.” Adam says and James’ lips form a quiet ‘oh’.

“Look, we actually need to work this out, okay? If we move Elyse to the side and let her go in and disable the alarms, we can go in and get the money while she’ll be waiting for us ou- What the fuck?!” Bruce cuts himself off as a package lands with a heavy thud against the floor, sliding to a stop in the middle of the kitchen. Elyse walks in a few seconds later. 

“Hey, boys. Got the mail.” She’s shuffling through the letters in her hand. “I’m pretty sure that’s not a bomb. Reasonably sure. I mean, it’s like a fifty-fifty chance. Hasn’t exploded yet, though, so that’s a plus.”

“What the fuck, Elyse?” Bruce shrieks, sliding off the stool and kneeling down to the box, pressing his ear against it, creasing his forehead while he listens. All in all, not the safest thing to do to a possible bomb, even if you can come back from the dead. “Alright, it’s not ticking. We should be able to open it.” Bruce pulls back the cardboard flaps with the tiniest amount of care. He pulls out a letter, white parchment with a blood red wax seal.  

“Who sends just a letter in a box?” James asks, tilting his head to the side. “That just seems like a waste of space.”

“No, there’s a brick in there too.” Bruce says, absentmindedly, scanning over the letter. “Here, here, listen to this. ‘Hello, boys! And the woman. A couple of things that we should get out of the way first, I’ve seen you die. Or, rather, not die. Quite an interesting predicament, huh? I find it quite enjoyable after a while, to be honest. A four person crew can’t topple this city to the ground, you need more members. I happen to keep tabs on the people that can’t quite seem to stay dead. Interested? Damn right you are. Send two people, your boss (my money’s on the big guy, to be honest) and another, to the skating rink on Elkwood. Look forward to seeing you. Joel.’ What…?”

“Another immortal, I guess.” Elyse shrugs. “Wants to work with us. I don’t see any problem with it. And we do need more people, we should go.”

“Who, though?” Adam questions, he’s back to tapping his pen against the counter. “And he doesn’t know who our leader is. He said ‘the big guy’ which could be any of us except for Elyse, right? We could send anyone.”

“I think we should send our two most intimidating people.” Bruce voices, it’s a good plan, show this guy that they mean business, they are business, and also they’re mean, but that’s kind of secondary at a time like this when they can’t pull off a heist because of sheer lack of numbers and James’ fear of Adam’s death. James puffs out his chest like a preening bird and the pride residing where his heart should be swells because this is an honour, being called the most intimidating out of this ragtag group of murders and thieves. “So, Elyse, Adam, you down for going skating?” James deflates visibly and Adam looks confused, holding up a hand.

“Wait, wait, I get why you’d choose Elyse.” Adam says and Elyse looks happily ruffled, holding her chin up and sticking her tongue out at James. “But why me? James is pure muscle, I mean, have you ever looked at him? He’s like a six foot Adonis, I’m not even kidding.”

“He’s strong, Adam, sure, but you’re  _ sad _ .” And Bruce says it with such dedication, with a vigor that should never be used when saying the word sad, that Adam does a double take and fixes Bruce with an odd, odd look. “You’re intimidating. I mean, let’s face it, your face isn't exactly the friendliest. You always look like you’re either going to kill yourself or kill someone else and neither of those are good conversation starters. You’re scary and depressed, man. And I’m reasonably sure that you can roller skate, James and I can’t.”

“Oh, yeah. I’d forgotten.” James says, voice too thoughtful and retrospective. Adam still looks confused, it’s becoming more of a permanent thing than he’d like.

“When was this a topic of conversation? And why do you think I can rollerskate? I mean, I can, but still. You didn’t even ask me.” Adam asks, pen still tapping, tapping, tapping, and Bruce closes his hand around it, silencing the noise. Adam starts tapping his fingernails just out of spite.

“You post pictures of roller skates on your blog.” James answers, being oh so helpful, the blow to his pride mere minutes earlier already forgotten and buried deep in the ground. 

“Alright, enough.” Elyse cuts them all off, blowing a short, sharp breath out of her nose. She leans forward across the counter, hands holding her up against it. “We need to fucking plan this. And if Adam’s the boss and I’m not, somebody-” She eyes all three of them at once, an incredible feat only achieved by the most spiteful of people. “-is going to get it.”

“Alright, so, Elyse is the boss.” Bruce says, immediately, because if there’s anyone to be scared of in their little group, it’s Elyse. It’s definitely Elyse.

“Are you sure you know how to skate, Adam?” Elyse teases, arms crossed against her chest as she watches Adam struggle to skate over to her on the carpet. “You look like a baby deer. A little prawn. No, wait, that’s a shrimp. That’s shrimp, right?”

“Yeah.” Adam answers, nodding. He has his arms out like wings, trying to balance. “And skating is much easier on the wood, okay? Carpet wasn’t made for skating.” He surges forward, feet slipping, and Elyse catches him, holding him up by his shoulders.

“Whatever you say, man. C’mon, let’s go onto the rink. The guy will probably come up to us, anyway.” Elyse lets go of Adam and skates onto the rink, waiting by the entrance for him as he shakily makes his way to her.

As it turns out, Adam isn’t any better at skating on the wood, but at least he’s not falling, he’s just going very slowly while Elyse does loops around him.

“I thought you said you could skate, Adam!” Elyse says, she’s laughing, Adam doesn’t think that she’s stopped since he put the skates on.

“It’s been a long time, okay?” Adam would cross his arms over his chest if he didn’t think that would definitely be his tipping point and he’d end up spread eagled on the floor. “When I was a teenager this-” He gestures down at his body. “-was a lot smaller and a lot easier to manage.”

“Eh, I don’t know, you could’ve been cute.” Elyse shrugs, noncommittally, shifting her hands up and down as if she’s weighing the two options. “Small and cute squeaky Adam or now Adam. I think I’m going to go with now Adam because, damn, your shoulder to waist ratio.”

“Uh… Thank you?” Adam offers and Elyse smiles, doing a small spin. Adam is sure that she’s just showing off now while simultaneously trying to show him up. “Fucking- Shit!” Adam slips and Elyse catches him again. He has absolutely no idea how he hasn’t knocked Elyse over yet, but he’s also extremely grateful for the fact that he is yet to hit the floor. She helps set him back up, hands steadying his shoulders. She lets him go slowly and he’s instantly back to shaking.

“Y’know, some people balance better with something in their hands. Tight-rope walkers have that big stick to balance out their weight.” Elyse nods, letting herself roll next to Adam, keeping pace with his weaving strides. 

“I don’t have anything to hold, though. Our bags are in the car and I don’t think a big stick would be practical he-” Elyse slips her hand into his, threading their fingers together. Adam gulps. “Oh.” Elyse smiles, one of those lax smiles without any teeth and instead taught lips and crinkled eyes. Her face is pink and it might be because of the flashing neon and it might be because she’s blushing and it might be because it’s hot in the rink, but either way, it makes Adam’s breath catch in his throat and he comes to the realization that he might, he might just happen to be a tiny little bit in love with one of his best friend’s wife. And now that he’s thinking about it, he might be a little bit in love with his best friends too. Shit. 

“You okay?” Elyse whispers, every noise is a static buzz except for her voice and she is being so quiet, so quiet, her face so close to Adam’s, breath warm on his cheek.

“Yeah.” Adam answers, just as quiet. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

Elyse’s hand in his own provides a distraction and a delightful one at that. It turns out that that’s what he needed and soon enough, he’s skating alongside Elyse, turning and spinning and he’s as good as he was when he was sixteen, but he’s really not going to try doing the backflips he used to do. And then Elyse takes in a sharp breath, drops his hand, and is shooting across the rink. Adam blinks, stunned, before taking off after her. She throws her arms around a guy, nearly knocking him over, and Adam rolls to a stop beside them both, looking slightly confused.

“I fucking- God, I hoped it was you, I hoped so much.” Elyse says into the guy’s shoulder and that’s when Adam realises that this is Joel, this is the other immortal, the guy they were supposed to meet. Joel laughs, unlatching Elyse from himself and looking her over before turning his gaze to Adam.

“And you! With your own crew!” Joel smiles and this is an odd, odd moment and Adam feels like he shouldn’t be here, feels like he’s intruding on something personal. “My money was on the sad man being the leader, to be honest, but it would’ve been on you if I’d recognized you.” He nods at Adam. “I’m Joel.”

“Adam.” He nods, stiffly, back, and somehow his hand has found his way onto his arm and he is  _ pressing _ . Adam winces under his own grasp, that’s going to leave a mark. “You two know each other?” It’s obvious they do, so obvious, but he just feels the need to check.

“Yeah, way back from the French Revolution, actually.” Elyse explains, wrapping an arm around Joel’s waist. Adam pushes back the spark of jealousy, buries it in the back of his mind. “Surprised you aren’t in a dress, Joel.” Joel snorts, rolling his eyes.

“I don’t wear dresses to business meetings.” His face changes, smile still there, but he looks different, his eyes aren’t soft anymore, and he looks intimidating. “We should probably discuss what we’re here for, anyway.” 

“We should.” Adam nods, voice blank, this is what he’s good at, even tones, even looks, even bargains. This is what he knows, this is what he does, Elyse leans back against him, crossing her arms, and Adam tries very hard not to break this persona he has up.

“I’ve been watching you guys and you need a front man. Me, I’m good at this. I’ve been doing it for lifetimes. I know how to swing a deal in someone’s favour and I’m charming as fuck.” Joel smirks, mirroring Elyse’s stance, arms crossed, fingers tapping against his elbow. “And I’m good at finding immortals. I mean, not as good as some people I know, but I’m still good and I can put you in contact with the others if this works out.”

“Let’s cut the formalities.” Elyse says, hands moving down to her hips. This is a thing, Adam realises, this is a thing that they’ve been through before, a dance with words and small movements and looks and smiles, a double edged sword being wielded by two people. “You’re coming back to the apartment with us and you’re going to work with us. You still owe me from when you ducked out last time, so.”

“I wouldn’t settle for anything less.” Joel grins and this weird fight mood is broken and Elyse is smiling too, a real smile, not the business one, and they’re looking at each other again, like they’re trying to preserve the other’s figure in their mind. “And I’ll help you find the others because Christ, you need more than four people to pull off heists.” Elyse nods in agreement.

“And you were right, by the way. Adam is the boss, but don’t tell Bruce I said that.” Elyse looks up at Adam who sighs and shakes his head.

“Yep, give away all of our secrets, Elyse, sure.” He sounds exasperated, but there’s a smile creeping across his face.

“He’s coming home with us, Adam, he’s going to learn these things eventually. And he owes me from last time, he won’t betray us.” Elyse says and the neon lights switch from pink to blue and Joel huffs out a laugh.

“Of course not. And, technically, I didn’t even betray you last time.” Joel points out and Elyse glares at him and Adam isn’t sure what he’s in the middle of right now.

“You left, Joel. You left me alone. You don’t just do that, it’s fucking bullshit.” Her voice is quiet and she’s looking at her feet and Adam wants to wrap an arm around her, she sounds so hurt, but he doesn’t, he’s frozen in this moment.

“You were in danger. Because of me.” Joel’s voice is just as quiet, but his gaze is fixed on Elyse. “I couldn’t live with that, Elyse. I had to go, but I’m so, so sorry.” Elyse leans forward, wrapping her arms against Joel again and he rubs a hand up and down her spine.

“I know, I know. I’m not- I’m not mad.” Elyse lets out half of a choked laugh. “But I’ll be damned if I won’t hold this over you forever. Look. I’ve made you repentant. Remember when you told me that you’d never, ever feel remorseful? Yeah, fuck you.”

Joel fits into the group easily, sliding into an empty slot that none of them knew was empty. He’s amiable, easy to get along with, easy to talk to, and heists get easier, deals go smoother with him fronting instead of Adam, they get more weapons and spend less money, and there are whispers in the streets again, talks and conversations about this crew that’s rising through the ranks and burning the ladder behind them. Joel’s a perfect fit and Adam isn’t quite sure how they ever worked without him because God knows they couldn’t now.

“There are rumours.” Joel states, leaning against the counter, a mug of coffee in his hands. It’s a new mug, one Adam has never seen before, in fact, the mug he’s drinking out of is new. He’s reasonably sure that Joel brought at least twelve mugs into the apartment when he moved in. That’s probably all he brought, too, because his extra clothes are nowhere to be seen. “About an immortal up in Washington.”

“Thank God, you’re finally doing what we hired you for. Three weeks is enough time to find eight immortals.” Bruce says and Joel huffs, annoyed. 

“I’m not even sure that there are eight other immortals.” Joel’s gaze rakes over the four situated around the kitchen. “Based on the statistics, there is no way you guys could have found each other and I, you. No way. This is impossible. The fact that all of you are here right now in the kitchen is a miracle.  And we’re pretty old and for most of us, this is the first life where we’ve run into multiple immortals. We don’t know if Adam is immortal, it’s a huge gamble we’re taking with him. Or that he’s taking with us. I’d say as a rough estimate, there are probably four more out there, at most. If that includes Adam, great, but it takes time to find them. I have to cross reference with texts that are in near forgotten languages, try to find correlations in mysterious deaths and murders with no bodies and most of the time, it’s a dead end. I’m working as hard as I can, Bruce, but it takes fucking time.” There’s a span of silence and Adam’s fingers are tapping against the counter in a stumbling rhythm, it’s the only noise. Bruce looks angry, glancing between Adam and Joel, James just looks surprised and Elyse, her face is carefully blank, as is Joel’s. Adam can’t help but wonder who taught who that look. 

“Tell us about the one in Washington.” James says and the quiet is shattered and Joel lets out a breath Adam didn’t know that he’d been holding. Next to him, Elyse does the same and Adam adds it to the list of things that they share that he most definitely needs to figure out. They have a lot of the same quirks, hand gestures, facial expressions, and Adam just needs to know why. And that whole thing about Joel leaving and Elyse having something to hang over his head, that too. That’s probably more important, anyway.

“Alright, so, there are reports of a cage fighter who won’t go down. He fights to within an inch of his life and then is fine the next day for another bout.” Joel narrows his eyes and brings his cup up to his face, lips barely brushing the brim. “Can’t find any records on him or anything. Looks like the recipe for an immortal if you’re asking me.”

“We got an address?” Bruce asks and Joel nods.

“What, do you think I’m unprofessional?” Joel jokes and Bruce shrugs. “Yeah, of course I do. Got some scouts up there that keep an eye out for me. Apparently the guy that… I think ‘sponsors him’ is the correct terminology or maybe owns him, I’m not really sure, he’s got a whole apartment building bought out under fake names, so my money’s on the kid being there.”

“Wait, wait, hold up, a kid?” Adam asks because he knows cage fighting, he’s seen cage fighting, he’s seen the bodies of cage fighters killed on the streets because they lost a match. If this guy is just a kid, even if he’s immortal, then fuck. No one should have to go through that. It’s unthinkable, the whole process, the whole leveling system inside of other systems. There’s a mentality in it, one that no one is born with, one that has to be trained and whipped and ingrained into a person’s mind. The idea that you fight until you die, otherwise you get shot and die, it’s just death at the end of every pathway. “How old are we talking?”

“The shots I got were grainy.” Joel admits, he’s tracing the lip of his mug now and there’s coffee on his fingers. “But he looks young, even in the sense of immortals, maybe only a couple of decades old.”

“Well, who’s ready for a road trip?” Elyse asks and James perks up, standing up straight, and he opens his mouth to speak before Elyse cuts him off. “You can’t pick the music, James, I swear to fucking God. Last time you did we ended up with satanic chants for eight hours.”

“That was throat singing!” James cries, indignant. “Where is your culture, Elyse? Because that was beautiful and an experience and I don’t think you deserve me. Who do you think you married, Elyse? Some swine with no culture that doesn’t listen to throat singing? Who do you take me for?”

“Not the person I married, that’s for fuckin’ sure..” She mutters and James rolls his eyes as far back as they can go. “Adam, you’re in charge of music.”

“He’s going to play emo death  _ Panic! At The Disco _ type music, Elyse! How is that any better than throat singing? It’s basically satanic chants too!” James protests, but there is already defeat in his eyes. He knows he can’t win this, but he doesn’t want Adam to win it either. Adam wasn’t even competing, for Pete’s sake, and somehow, someway, Elyse is going to give him first prize.

“ _ Panic! At The Disco _ isn’t emo! It’s more like pop rock with the newest album and before that it was probably indie alt.” Adam muses, stroking his chin. It’s a habit, a horrible one that he definitely needs to kick, but he hasn’t quite been able to. Damn this beard.

“Is he speaking in tongues?” James asks. “There were at least nine words that I didn’t understand there. That’s way higher than my average, Elyse, this is frightening.”

“If I wanted to play you some emo stuff, I’d play  _ My Chemical Romance _ .” Adam nods, approving of his own music advice and selection. “The emo gods, the only true leaders of the teenage cults.”

“What about God, Adam? Isn’t he good enough for the teens and tweens? Are you saying that our lord and saviour is going out of style?” James slams his hands down on the counter and Joel raises his eyebrows. This fight is getting oddly serious. “Let God into your heart, he will bathe of you your emo sins.”

“Okay, for the record, I don’t even like MCR.” Adam states and he’s attempting at reconciling a piece. “I’m a child of south Philly rock, okay? That’s a lot different than emo stuff. It’s like eight branches away on the tree of music.”

“This is ridiculous.” Bruce shakes his head and lets out a deep sigh.

“Shut up, Bruce, you listen to ska music.” James commands and Bruce shrugs. To him, ska music isn’t shameful, even though every other living soul on the planet Earth disagrees with him. “You have no ground to stand on here.”

“Neither do you, James!” Adam points out and James opens his mouth to retaliate when Joel slams his mug down onto the counter, the dregs of his coffee spreading across the fake stone, ceramic chipping and shattering across the kitchen. The attention is all on him as he straightens and brushes shards of the cup off of his shirt. 

“I swear to God, boys, I will turn this God damned car around!” Joel yells and there is silence for a few moments, everyone just looks stunned, mouths hanging slack and open.

“We’re not even in a car…” James trails off, weakly, and Joel turns to him.

“Yeah, yeah, I know, but you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to say that. Like, decades, man.  _ Decades _ .” Joel says, leaning forward. “It’s years. Tens of years, James. Tens.”

“Joel, you broke your cup.” Elyse just sounds resigned, picking flecks of white off of her shirt with distaste. 

“These cups were like two dollars each, Elyse. I knew there was going to be drama and when there’s drama, nothing is better than smashing a cup. It gets all the attention on you and you can refuse to clean it up later.” Joel looks smug, a smirk on his face. He looks like a cat that just successfully pushed a cup off of a table and in a way, he did.

“Joel, if you don’t clean this up…” Elyse lets the threat hang in the air, empty and looming, and Joel wilts under her glare. He mutters something under his breath. “What was that?”

“Yes, Elyse.” He says, looking down. Adam looks between the two, Elyse, Joel, Elyse, Joel, Elyse, and it’s kind of terrifying, the hold she has on him, but he’s also reasonably sure that he has a hold on her too, just a less visible one, one that takes a more subtle form. He backs out of the room, slowly, hands held palms outward in surrender.

At the crack of dawn, sun just slipping over the horizon, they pile into Elyse’s van for the sole reason that it’s the only one that is inconspicuous and it’s the only one that can fit them all. The road trip isn’t really that bad and once James begrudgingly surrenders the AUX chord to Adam there’s some refreshingly average music playing as they drive north.

Seattle is rainy, which is indeed how it’s portrayed in movies and literature, but, hell, Adam really didn’t expect the sky to be literally falling down on top of the car.

“Great weather, huh?” Joel says, sarcastically, from the passenger seat, which he physically fought James for earlier that day. “Much better than sunny California, am I right?”

“Oh my God, shut up, please.” Adam begs from where he’s squished between James and Bruce in the backseat. “This is Seattle, what were you expecting?”

“More coffee shops, to be honest.” Bruce shrugs, looking out the window at the slipping tracks of rain and the blurry buildings and people and lights.

“We just passed eight.” James argues. “Eight, Bruce. How many did you want?”

“At least nineteen. I don’t want to be difficult or anything, but eight seems like way too few for the coffee capital of the U.S.” Bruce sighs, breath fogging against the glass in an uneven circle. “I’m not mad, just disappointed.”

“Actually,” Joel twists around to face them and Adam can see his face reflected in Joel’s sunglasses which he hasn’t taken off, even though he knows that it’s raining and he’s told them many times. “Seattle is only the second best coffee city.  Number one is New York which, no doubt, is a little surprising. I was honestly rooting for Anchorage because they have some damn fine coffee shops up there, but I guess that they don’t have the same hipster crowd that New York does.”

“You amaze me.” Adam rolls his eyes and Joel might be glaring at him, but Adam just can’t tell under those sunglasses.

“Stop distracting Joel!” Elyse orders from the driver’s seat. “I need him to tell me where we’re going because I don’t have a fucking clue, every coffee shop looks the same up here.” Joel turns back around, sitting down with a thump.

“Turn up here by this group of skater kids.” Joel advises and Elyse hits her hand against the steering wheel.

“Which one, Joel? There’s one on each side of the street, so which damned one is it?” The drive through the city isn’t stressful in the least and they only nearly hit four kids on skateboards. Joel calls it a record and Adam makes a silent vow to never let Joel drive around teenagers on wheels of any kind.

They pull up across the street from the building and they all lean to the side to be able to see it. It’s tall, like most apartment buildings are, and it’s silhouetted against the grey sky. 

“Scary.” Bruce mutters and he’s right, with the few cracked windows and half crumbling bricks, it’s quite a sight.

“Alright, everybody out. We’ll walk around the back and go in from there.” Joel instructs, seemingly unfazed. “And for God’s sake, don’t take your guns out until we’re not on the streets.”

The inside of the building is… Slightly better than the outside. The carpet is peeling and the paint on the walls is cracked, but it looks mostly habitable. 

“Where are the people?” James wonders aloud as they turn a corner. “Shouldn’t there be guards or somethi-” A bullet buries itself in the plaster by his head. James looks, surprised, at the two men at the end of the hallway, but before he can lift his gun, they topple over, shot.

“Be more careful.” Adam rumbles, pushing his way past James. “If you’re not on the lookout, don’t take the lead.”

They spread through the first floor, kicking open doors and searching through the apartments for anyone, immortal or not, and shooting anyone who falls into the latter category.

“Dude, there’s a guy in here!” Bruce yells from another hallway. A gunshot rings out. “Um, well. His body is still here.”

“Christ.” Adam mutters under his breath, looking through the last apartment. “Alright! First floor is clear. Going up!”

The second floor is empty, as is the third floor, and when they reach the fourth floor, Joel nearly gags. There’s mildew on the ceiling and growing from the carpet and water damage seeping through the walls. They don’t split up on this floor, instead staying bunched together, moving quickly and silently. Joel stops abruptly, pressing his ear against a door.

“There’s somebody in here.” He whispers and the rest of the crew concentrates. They can hear  _ something _ , panicked squeaks and huffed breaths. Joel reaches, so slowly, ever so slowly, for the doorknob and it turns in his hands, the door is unlocked and the noises stop. 

The door swings open with the tiniest push and the crew stands there, Joel crouched in front of them, and this. This is exactly why Adam hates cage fighting. 

Joel was right to call this kid young because, God damn, he sure looks it. His wrists are tied and even in the poor light, Adam can see the red marks that the zip ties are leaving. There’s duct tape over his mouth and his eyes are half closed, bruises mottle his face and what Adam can see of his arms. There’s blood on his clothes, smeared across his forehead in dried streaks. He’s sitting on the floor, back flat against the wall, and his head is almost, almost lolling to the side. Elyse grabs his arms, grip tight, and Adam lets her.

“Christ.” James breathes, the first to move forward, slipping past Joel and advancing towards the kid, hands up. He pulls a small knife from his pocket and the kid’s breathing quickens. “Hey, hey, I’m not going to hurt you. Just cut the ties, okay?” He does it quickly, a flick of the knife and then the boy’s hands fall to his side. “And I’m gonna take this off real quick, okay. It’s going to hurt, but only for a second.” And he rips off the tape covering his mouth. The kid gasps, choking on air, and Elyse moves towards him, kneeling down beside him, but not touching him, not yet.

“Hey, hey.” Her voice is soft, tender, and Adam can see the care in her eyes, the anger too, but that’s not directed at this broken person in front of her. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“Not-” The kid’s voice cracks and he blinks, taking a few more breaths before trying to talk again. “I’m fine.” He sounds so  _ small _ .

“Okay, that’s good.” The kid is lying, it’s obvious, there’s pain written across his face and Adam knows that Elyse can see it, but she just nods. “Look, we’re nice people. We’re not going to hurt you. We live in Los Santos and we’d like to take you with us.”

“I’m sorry.” The kid whispers. “I-I can’t go, I have a fight tomorrow and my boss doesn’t want me to leave, he’s going to be up here any second to take care of me.” The way the kid says it makes Adam think that that doesn’t mean what it normally does, and he doesn’t really want to know what it means in this context.

“Shit, I think that’s the guy I killed.” Bruce murmurs and the kid looks up at him, eyes wide. And then he starts to cry, silent tears as he buries his face in his hands.

“Okay, look, kid, we’re taking you with us.” Elyse makes the executive decision and gestures at James, who slowly, slowly, picks the kid up. He mouths ‘too light’ at the others and Adam’s heart drops even more.

“I can’t- I can’t.” The kid says in broken syllables, oddly still in James’ arms. “Boss is gonna- This is- I need to-” He sucks in a breath, folding his hands tighter over his head.

“Hey, hey, you okay?” James jostles him slightly, he doesn’t want this kid to close his eyes. Logically, logically he knows that nothing bad will happen if he does, but he doesn’t want the boy dead in his arms. Elyse looks worried, lip bitten between her teeth. 

“Do you need something? Anything?” Bruce asks and the kid is shaking, visibly shaking, and it’s the type of shaking Adam knows. It’s anxious shaking, about to have a panic attack shaking, and Adam opens his mouth to say something and-

Three things happen at once. The kid uncurls himself, hands no longer covering his head, and he’s punching James in the face, and then he’s on the ground, somehow already a good distance from them, this kid moves fast, and he has James’ gun in his shaking, shaking hands.

“Hey now, don’t make any rash decisions.” Bruce’s hands are up, palms outward, and he’s trying to show that he’s not a threat and-

There’s blood on the walls and Joel is shouting and James is yelling and Bruce is trying to talk and Elyse is running forward and cradling the boy’s body in her arms and Adam is frozen in his spot as Elyse lowers the kid to the floor, laying him across her lap. The world is ringing in Adam’s ears and he can’t help but stare as Elyse threads her fingers through the boy’s bloody hair and she’s whispering something over and over and he can’t make it out and her eyes are shining with unshed tears. The red spills across the carpet, threading across like spider web, as the boy’s skin knits together again. His eyes flutter open as his chest spasms and he’s looking upward at Elyse as she pries the gun from his warming fingers. He opens his mouth and his head falls back.

No one talks.

James steals a car, a bigger van, and Elyse doesn’t drive, sits in the back with the kid’s head on her lap, and there’s no music, no talking, instead a heavy silence hanging over them. They leave Elyse’s van abandoned in Seattle.

The kid wakes up during the drive, struggling to sit upright, and Elyse has to push him back down, hold him down as he struggles, nothing but fear in his eyes before he blacks out again.

He sleeps eventually.

No one says a word.

Elyse takes him when they get back to the apartment, carries him into one of the bedrooms and shuts the door behind her. 

No one outside the room sleeps that night.

No one outside the room talks that night.

Everything is too fresh.

Everything is too real.

The sun is rising again and the four are gathered in the kitchen. Joel is making yet another pot of coffee and he speaks.

“Fuck, that was…” He trails off for a second. “Horrible. You think you’d get used to it, to death, but you only get used to yours. And apparently suicide is a whole other thing, so.”

“Not what I expected.” Bruce admits, swirling the dregs of his last coffee in his cup. “Not what I wanted either.”

“Do you think he’s okay?” Adam’s voice is too small for him, too quiet for him, too soft for him. 

“Elyse is with him.” James says, similarly quiet. His coffee sits, untouched and cold on the counter. “She knows what she’s doing.” That doesn’t answer his question, but Adam can’t bring himself to say it.

They all crash at some point before noon, sprawling out across the living room and  _ sleeping _ . The dark is welcome.

Adam wakes up with a start, the sky is going dusky outside the windows and the city is silhouetted against the setting sun. Adam blinks the sleep from his eyes and freezes, there are noises in the kitchen. He gets up carefully, stepping over Joel who is sprawled out across the floor, face down. Adam ducks into the kitchen, standing in the doorway.

The kid is sitting at the counter, head ducked, and Elyse is at the oven, making what looks like an omelette, and talking to him. She turns, still talking, but stops when she sees Adam.

“Oh! Hey there.” She greets him and the kid spins, looking at Adam and blinking. “Sean, this is Adam. Adam this is Sean.”

“Hey.” Adam greets, voice rough from sleep. He walks into the kitchen, giving Sean a wide berth, and pulling a bottle of water from the fridge. “How are you feeling?”

“F-fine.” His voice wobbles and he’s looking down and Adam turns to Elyse.

“You doing okay?” He asks her and Elyse opens her mouth, but no sound comes out. She rushes forward in a moment, burying her face in Adam’s shirt.

“I’m okay.” She takes a breath, grip on his hands tightening. “I’m okay.” And then she lets him go. 

“Y’all are cute.” Sean murmurs and Elyse lets out a breathy laugh, but she doesn’t comment, doesn’t correct him, so Adam doesn’t either. His leg is bouncing, he’s nervous, he has all the signs, the glancing looks and the tilted head and the constant, repeated movement.

“Do you have anxiety?” Adam asks and silently curses himself as Sean freezes. Fuck. “Man, you don’t have to answer! It’s fine! Really, I was just wondering.”

“I don’t- Yeah, maybe. Probably. Yeah.” Sean bites his lip and shoots fleeting glances at Adam, quick half a second peeks, and he keeps looking back at Elyse, who’s nodding encouragingly. 

“No shame, man, I have it. A couple of the others probably do too. We can get you meds, if you want them. Might help with the attacks.” Adam says and Sean swallows, hard.

“M-maybe, not right- not now. Not now, though.” Sean trips through his words and Adam shrugs, nodding.

“It’s up to you, really, Sean.” Adam takes a drink of his water and Sean nods quickly, too quickly. 

Adam stands in the corner of the kitchen, leaned against the cabinets, and Sean eats quickly, wolfing down the omelette like he hasn’t eaten in days and Adam’s heart  _ hurts _ in his chest because that might be the reality. It’s odd to watch, this skinny, skinny boy who Adam saw die, who Adam saw kill himself, it’s odd to see him sitting in his kitchen. He glances at Elyse, and oh God,  _ Elyse _ . 

She’s gone, so gone, she’s watching this kid with her mouth set in a hard line, hands folded together, she’s in her protective stance, her protective mindset, she’s never going to let Sean go. And Adam, watching Sean press his hands together again and again and again, he realises that he’s not going to be able to either.

Sean gets introduced to the crew once they all wake up and it’s an odd mixture of awkward and relieved as they say their hellos and greet him and Sean flushes, the red spreading to the tips of his ears. He’s cute and Adam can’t deal with these thoughts right now, so, like he does with most things, he pushes it to the back of his mind and refuses to deal with it.

Elyse tells them what she knows about Sean after he goes back to bed, back to sleep, God knows, he needs it. She tells them what she knows of his story in the late night in the kitchen and Joel opens another bottle of wine. 

“You need to call him by his name.” Elyse says, her voice isn’t shaking, she’s keeping it carefully still, carefully even. “Even a nickname, fuck it, give him a nickname, just let him know that he has one, okay? That he’s a person, that you know that, that you respect that.” She refuses to say anything else about the matter, but it’s already settled, has been since she opened her mouth. She has a hold on these boys, a hand around their throat, but it’s not threatening, it’s comforting, grounding, and they’d do anything for Elyse as she nearly cries in the kitchen thinking of the boy only a few rooms over.

They can’t force a nickname, it’s a process, albeit a long one, but they have to let it come naturally.

And letting it come naturally ends up being a week later when the crew is mushed together on the couch, limbs tangled together, and Spoole is sitting alone in an adjacent arm chair, knees drawn up under his chin. They’re watching Adam play some shitty game on the television and Sean is wearing one of Bruce’s hoodies, sleeves draped over his hands.

“What’s your name, Sean?” James asked and Sean giggles, fucking giggles.

“You just- You just said it.” Sean says, a lopsided half smile on his face, something that’s been happening more lately, today’s a good day. James shakes his head.

“I meant your last name.” James clarifies and Sean’s mouth shifts into an ‘o’.

“It’s Poole.” He says, glancing back at the TV as Adam narrowly escapes death once again. 

“Poole?” James repeats, a grin spreading across his face. “You mean to tell me that your name is S. Poole? One could even say… Spoole?” And it sticks, just like that.

None of them are able to miss the way his face lights up when they call him that, but then again, none of them want to. 

Spoole fits, clicks in nearly perfectly, but they won’t let him do jobs yet. Gunshots still have him jumping. They’re patient. Sean is grateful.

Spoole has tics, nervous habits, quirks, that Adam picks up on. He has a list written in a notebook, the same notebook where he keeps all his other lists about the crew. There’s… There’s a lot. He can’t catch anything. Joel tossed him his phone one time, just trying to show him a picture, and he knocked it out of the air and onto the ground, completely shattering the screen. It’s a fear thing, Adam’s figured it out, it has to do with protection, preparation, you have to warn Sean because he’s still on edge, he’ll probably never not be on edge. He fidgets when he’s nervous, when he’s anxious, and he still ducks his head a lot while speaking, but sometimes he’ll forget to and Adam can see his eyes shining as he talks about something that he likes, anything that he likes. He asks for permission for things, small things that Adam didn’t even think that he’d need permission for, but he does. And then there’s the nights, the nights where he’s convinced that he’s back there, that he needs to  _ reset _ , an ever colder term for suicide that Adam could never have thought of on his own, and someone will have to hold him tightly and wait for him to tire himself out. It’s getting better though, all the things on the list, they’re easing, slowly but surely. But there’s one, one Adam can’t figure out. 

There’s no rhyme or reason to it, not anything that Adam can see at least. It just… Happens. Sean will be talking, explaining something that he knows about (geographical regions or locations or how to tell the pH of soil by looking at the flora growing from it, this kid knows things about land, or even discussing the benefits and downfalls of medieval weaponry) and he’ll stop mid-sentence, sometimes mid-word, clasping his hands over his head and refusing to talk, avoiding eye contact and looking down. The first time it happened, Bruce freaked out and tried to take him to the hospital, never mind the fact that he’d just robbed a convenience store and the police were looking for him. 

It doesn’t just happen then either. When somebody else is talking, when he’s laughing, when there’s a sudden noise, when someone touches him without warning, that last one is… The first time it happens, it’s horrifying. 

Sean is standing in the kitchen next to the counter, watching Elyse try to teach Adam how to make popovers, and he’s drinking coffee from a mug that he can’t quite wrap his hands around.

“Motherfucker, Adam- You can’t do that!” Elyse runs a hand through her hair, sighing, as Adam manages to drop half of an eggshell into the beaten yolks. “This is- Oh my God. I hate you so much. You are horrible at everything.”

“He’s good at some things.” Sean pipes up, grinning at the flour stained and egg streaked Adam. “Making messes, for one.”

“Hey, don’t be mean to me.” Adam pouts, tracing fake tears on his face and only managing to wipe more flour on his cheek. “I deserve better than this.”

“You deserve fuck all.” Elyse grumbles, surveying the scene. “You got the batter everywhere but the pan. It’s on your shoes!” Sean is laughing, high and reedy and free, and it’s good, it’s good that he can do that around them, that he’s gotten better at it. James is in the doorway, grinning, and he walks forward.

“What’s-” He claps a hand on Sean’s shoulder and Sean chokes, the mug slipping out of his hands and shattering against the floor. His hands come up to cover his head as he slips down, kneeling among the shards. James looks stunned, hand still held in the air and Sean is shaking. Adam is the first to move, crouching down on the floor next to him, and Elyse soon after, wrapping her arms around Spoole and whispering, talking to him, head pressed against his.

It takes too long for Sean to fall still again and Elyse pulls him up off the floor, but he’s still looking down, at the tiles, at the shattered cup, at the spilled coffee.

“I’m really sorry, Spoole.” James says, gaze fixed on the smaller man. “I didn’t know, I won’t do it again.”

“Why don’t you go find Joel?” Elyse suggests, voice carefully warm and even and soft. “He’s playing video games in the backroom and I’m reasonably sure he’s just playing against himself. Go help out the sad, lonely man.” As soon a Spoole leaves the room, Elyse shifts. She’s gritting her teeth and clenching her fists and there is pure  _ anger _ in her eyes.

James and Adam say nothing, wait for her to speak instead.

“He thinks-” Elyse runs a hand across her face, she is seething. “He thinks we’re going to hit him. He thinks that he needs to protect. He was fucking- He was  _ begging _ .” And she breaks, tears on her cheeks, and Adam hugs her as James wraps his arms around her shoulders.

Sean is one of her boys now, one of hers, someone she cares about, and it hurts her to see him hurt. Now that he’s here and now that he’s hers, Elyse will never let him go.

It takes a long time for her to calm down, face buried in Adam’s shirt, James’ hands in her hair.

She leaves not long after that, taking keys that aren’t her own down from the hooks and peeling away on Joel’s motorcycle. They don’t follow her, she doesn’t need them right now. 

Adam wakes up that night to voices and silhouettes in the kitchen, he can see them from where he’s slumped at the dining room table, where he must have fallen asleep. He can’t make a habit of this.

“I understand.” Elyse’s voice is soft, but it carries and Adam watches, Adam listens, as Sean looks at her. “I do, I really do, but you can trust us. We wouldn’t hurt you, we’d never hurt you. Your part of our family now, Sean, we don’t hurt the people we love.” She’s fiddling with something, turning it over and over in her hands. “Got you something. Thought it might help.” It’s a hat, Adam realises, and Elyse puts it on Sean, pulling the brim over his eyes.

“I don’t- I don’t think that’s right, Elyse.” Sean says as he fixes it, pulling the cap back so he can see her. “Thank you.” His voice is quiet and Elyse nods, turning to look into the dining room. Adam panics, she’s going to see him, and he slams his head back down onto the table a bit harder than he should have. A crack sounds throughout the apartment and then Elyse is laughing and Sean is giggling and Adam is groaning because fuck, that hurt. Someone opens the fridge, he can hear it, and something cold hits him in the shoulder, he groans again.

“Ice that bitch.” Elyse orders, walking over to him as he decides to not move, he thinks movement would make this whole situation worse. She leans down and presses a kiss to his forehead. “Bitch. C’mon, Sean, he’s fine, let’s go to bed.” They leave him in probably well-deserved agony on the table.

It’s good and more and more things get pushed under the rug in Adam’s mind, including but not limited to: that time James winked at him and he definitely didn’t blush, that other time when Joel got really drunk on wine and tried to make out with him, when Bruce hugged Adam after that heist with far too many close calls and refused to let go, when Elyse crept into his room in the middle of the night and watched him (she said the next day that she’d had a nightmare and refused to talk about it), when Sean and him came so, so close to kissing before Sean ducked his head and laughed. He’s not in love with his crew, he can’t be, so he’s not.

It’s fine. Really.

It’s breaking dawn, sun just below the horizon and the sun is barely, barely tinging the city gold, a scene of false glamour, false wealth, false worth. Adam is sitting in the living room, head in Joel’s lap, body across Elyse and James. Bruce is running his hands through his hair and Adam is nearly asleep. Sean walks in, yawning, arms behind his head. It’s early, but he’s wearing the hat Elyse got him, Adam isn’t sure that he’s not worn it since he got it.

“Morning.” His voice is slurred and he rubs sleep from his eyes, it’s cute, he’s cute. “Mmm, ‘ow are you guys?”

“Good.” Joel says, smiling. “You might have to make some coffee, we’re all kind of stuck here with this big lug.” Sean grins, face soft, and Adam waves at him. He walks into the kitchen.

There’s a scream, high and blood curdling and everyone stands in an instant and Adam falls on the floor.

He’s up in a split second and then they’re all in the kitchen.

There’s a man sitting at the counter, laptop in front of him, and Sean is on his knees, shaking. Elyse and James each pull out a gun, they have guns all over the apartment, hidden and tucked away. Adam puts up his fists just so he feels like he’s contributing.

“Lawrence?” Joel manages and everyone just halts because does Joel know this person? The man -Lawrence?- glances up for a second, before looking back down at his laptop.

“Yeah, hey. What’s that guy doing on the floor? He got a problem or something?” Lawrence asks and Sean is still shaking, hands clenched by his side. Bruce opens his mouth to answer, but then-

“Okay, I’m okay, it’s okay.” Sean’s voice is quiet, so quiet, and he stands up slowly, still looking down. “Okay, okay, okay.”

“Who the fuck are you?” Elyse asks, her gun still pointed at this mystery man.

“Joel said I could come over whenever.” Lawrence raises an eyebrow, looking at the group.

“When I said whenever, I didn’t mean breaking in in the middle of the night and scaring the ever living fuck out of Sean! I meant-” Joel stops, pinching the bridge of his nose and taking a deep breath. “Alright, guys, this is Lawrence, fellow immortal and tech extraordinaire. I told him that he could come over whenever, I wasn’t going to hunt him down, he was around here.  But I did not tell him he could break in.”

“The door was unlocked, Joel, you need to keep better track of your people, you’re going to get killed.” Lawrence shakes his head and Joel huffs.

“They’re not- They’re not my people! They’re their own people!” Joel groans. “Lawrence, chill out. Just, just chill out.” Lawrence raises an eyebrow.

“Am I being unchill?” He questions.

“Look what you did to Spoole!” James points out, gesturing with his gun. “He’s-”

“Fine.” Sean interrupts, still looking down. “I’m fine.” Elyse bites her lip and puts a hand on Sean’s shoulder.

“Let’s go to the other room, honey.” She guides him out and Lawrence looks skeptical.

“Am I in?” Lawrence asks. “You guys need a tech guy, Joel is the closest you’ve got and he’s nothing compared to me.”

“Uh, sure?” Bruce offers, shrugging, and Lawrence nods, looking back down at his laptop.

Lawrence fits in with little resistance. Their heists have more planning, less close calls, less time spent, more money gained. He’s an asset, a valuable one at that. 

Sean joins the heists not long after Lawrence starts contributing to the planning, and he is a fucking force to be reckoned with. He has aim, good aim, and he has drive. He kills, throws punches, cracks heads, cracks knuckles. He’s a valuable member and he’s so happy to be out with the crew. It’s easy. Loud noises still startle him, but it’s getting better, he’s getting better.

Sean still tiptoes around Lawrence, doesn’t look him in the eyes, talks to him as little as he can get away with, but it took him time to warm up to them, maybe he just hasn’t taken to Lawrence yet. 

Sometimes, sometimes Lawrence gets angry. He’s playing video games with the guys, Elyse is out shopping, Sean is in his room, and there’s a stupidly bad platformer playing its ‘you lost’ music over and over on the TV. Lawrence misses yet another jump and slams down the controller onto the coffee table.

“Mother fucker fucking fuck!” Lawrence shouts, red-faced. “Oh my God, why are indie games so fucking hard? Fuck!” He slams his hands down against the table. “Fuck! I hate everything! I’m going to kill someone!”

There’s a noise. Something slamming down to the ground and something shattering. They’re up in a second.

Sean is on the ground, kneeling, a glass broken in front of him and water spreading across the hallway. His fists are clenched, knuckles white, and he’s shaking like a leaf. He’s crying. 

Adam runs forward, wrapping his arms around the smaller man as he lets out a small sob. Sean leans into Adam, burying his face in his shirt. Joel glances around at them, then scuttles off. He’s back a few seconds later with a towel and he’s mopping up the water, picking up the glass.

“Shit, I- What?” Lawrence manages, stepping forward, glass crunching beneath his feet. Sean shrinks back, making himself smaller in Adam’s arms and that’s when Adam realises. Sean is  _ scared _ . Terrified and shaking and begging for protection in every noise he makes. Adam holds him tighter, looking up at Lawrence, mouth open, but without words. “Sean, I-” He stops when James puts a hand on his shoulder.

“Let’s leave him alone.” James suggests, guiding Lawrence away. Bruce mouths something, offering help, but Adam shakes his head, he’s got this. Bruce leaves too, taking Joel with him, and then the two are alone. 

“I’m gonna take you to my room, okay?” Adam whispers, words against Sean’s neck. He doesn’t nod, but he doesn’t shake his head, so Adam stands, slowly, Sean held tightly in his arms. And he walks to his bedroom.

He takes his hat off, placing it on the bedside table. He tucks Sean in, just like his mom used to do to him, covers and blankets up to his closed eyes, comfortable under the layers. Everything is quiet except his shaky breaths. Adam turns to leave, to find James, Bruce, Joel, Lawrence, to talk about what happened. 

“Stay please.” Sean whispers and Adam pauses.

“Sure, baby boy.” It slips out unintentionally and Adam wants to kick himself because, really, what the fuck? But Sean doesn’t seem bothered, if anything, he melts. Adam climbs onto the bed next to him, and he lays there, drawing his hands through Sean’s hair. He is royally, royally fucked, and he’s very, very afraid that if he shoves any more stuff under the rug, he won’t be able to walk on it anymore. He tucks the feelings away anyway.

Sean is fast asleep when Adam can hear Elyse coming into the apartment. He slips out of Sean’s bed, planning on telling her about what happened, and he closes Sean’s door behind him. He pads to the kitchen, where Elyse is undoubtedly unpacking groceries.

Everyone else is already in there, Lawrence leaning against the wall, Joel and Bruce standing at the counter, James wrapping his arms around Elyse’s waist.

“Alright, what happened?” Elyse asks and everyone exchanges glances. “Oh, c’mon, don’t play dumb. You’re all here as soon as I get… Where’s Sean? What happened to Sean?” There’s silence, no one looks at Elyse, no one wants to make eye contact. “What. The. Fuck. Happened. To. Sean.” Her voice is low, threatening, a barely masked edge. “If someone doesn’t tell me in the next two seconds, I will be very angry.”

“Lawrence made Spoole cry.” Joel murmurs, glancing up and Elyse looks far too calm, far too composed. She takes a breath.

“What happened?” She asks, Bruce opens his mouth, but she shushes him. “I want Lawrence to answer.” Lawrence blinks.

“We were playing video games and I got mad?” Lawrence offers, unsure of what he’s supposed to say. “And I yelled? And then he was on the floor?”

“What’d you say?” She’s still too calm, too posed, so careful, so even.

“Uh, I said fuck a lot.” Lawrence answers, trying to remember. “And that I was going to kill someone?” Elyse takes a deep breath, pressing a hand to her face. “Look, I feel like there’s something I don’t get here. Sean is a grown man, he’s more than that. You shouldn’t coddle him. You shouldn’t have to leap to his defense every time something freaks him out, he needs to learn to take care of himself. He’s never going to be a useful part of this crew unless he learns.” And Elyse snaps, she breaks, she changes. Her calm is gone, thrown out the fucking window and she looks  _ angry _ .

“Ex-fucking-cuse you, motherfucker.” She hisses, words spit from clenched teeth. “You don’t know what he’s gone through. You don’t know what happened to him.”

“Maybe you should enlighten me, then.” Lawrence sounds sarcastic, dry, joking. He’s not taking this seriously.

“He was a fucking slave!” Elyse shouts, she’s gone now, so gone. “He was kept for a fucking year and a half and he was a cage fighter! And guess what? The people that owned him? Yeah, they found out that he was immortal and that he healed faster if he was killed.” Lawrence looks sick, so pale, but Elyse keeps going. “So they killed him every night. Every night, Lawrence. Of course he’s scared, he has a right to be scared after what happened to him. And you think he doesn’t belong in this crew? You think that he can’t take care of himself? He’s fucking strong, so strong, and he’s killed me before. He’s-”

“What?” Heads whip around to see the new voice, Sean standing in the doorway, eyes wide. “W-what?” Elyse looks at him.

“You don’t remember?” She asks and Sean shakes his head, he looks afraid. “In the Colosseum? You beat me in a gladiator match? Broke my streak? I was cross-dressing and- Oh. Actually, that’s probably why you don’t remember.” This is a fucking realization. Elyse is horrifying, strong and fierce and hard to put down, but if Sean did… Well, fuck.

“Wait, wait, you were a gladiator?” Bruce asks, surprised. Sean nods. “I thought you were a new immortal! How old are you?”

“Uh, more that two thousand?” Sean tries to count on his fingers before giving up. “Some parts are just a blur.”

“You’re older than me!” James exclaims. “And Bruce! And Adam, but that’s kind of a given.”

“Not me and not Elyse, though.” Joel counters. “We’re old as fuck.”

“Older than me.” Lawrence murmurs. “I’m only a hundred and four.”

“Uh, sure?” Spoole offers, shrugging. “I thought you knew, I talk about stuff from that time all the time.”

“I thought you just studied history or something.” Adam murmurs and Sean looks confused. There’s silence for a moment and then Elyse is dragging Lawrence to the other room. 

It’s late. Dark is hanging over the city like a bird, heavy and low. The lights outside in the buildings are flashing, calming, easy. Adam can’t sleep, it doesn’t come easy to him, never has, and Sean is tugging on his arm. 

“C’mon, c’mon, Adam, play cards with me.” Sean begs and Adam groans, barely holding back a smile.

“Fine.” It’s hard to play cards with two people, but they do it. Sean has some odd tactics and ends up with nearly the whole deck in his hands. Lawrence walks into the dining room and stops, looking at both of them.

“Hey.” He hedges and Sean looks up, looking right at Lawrence and this is the first time that Adam has seen him do it. “Sean, I just wanted to apologize. I’m an asshole, I know. But I didn’t know, y’know? I feel like this is getting confusing. I just- I’m sorry, I’m really sorry.”

“It’s okay. I-I get it, you didn’t know, it’s fine.” Sean bites his lip. “Do you- Do you want to play cards? We can redeal.”

“Sure.” Lawrence shrugs, taking a seat next to Adam. “Can you shuffle, Spoole?” Sean pauses in his stacking of the cards before shaking his head. Lawrence takes them from him, their hands brushing, and Sean flushes, smiling and looking down, murmuring his thanks. A spark of jealousy flares in Adam’s chest and he shoves it back. He can’t deal with this and he shouldn’t be jealous, Sean isn’t his, Sean is his own person. He shoves the spark under the rug.

This spark sets the rug aflame and there’s nothing Adam can do as it disappears and crumbles into ash, feeling everything that was under it surge up again. 

Lawrence fits in much better after this. 

It’s good, they’re good, and Adam is hopelessly in love with every single one of them, but God, he’s never telling them.

They’re slightly drunk, wine glasses scattered around the living room. They’re all in various states of disarray, different positions across the furniture. Adam is leaning against Elyse, Joel across both of their laps, Bruce and James and Lawrence are squished together in an armchair in an amazing feat, and Sean is sitting on one of the sofa arms. 

“If anybody came in here right now, they’d all think we’re fucking.” Elyse chuckles, dragging a hand through Joel’s hair. “Or at least dating. What a fuck show that would be.” Alright, they’re more than slightly drunk.

“Would it be so bad, though?” Adam asks, tilting his head to the side. “We’re already around each other all day, every day. It wouldn’t be that much of a step up.”

“It wouldn’t be hard.” Bruce shakes his head and James nods in agreement. Sean looks confused.

“You’re-You’re not dating?” He looks bewildered. “I thought you were.”

“Sean! We wouldn’t be in a relationship without you and Lawrence.” Joel scolds, rolling his eyes. “Fucking ridiculous.”

“I kinda maybe thought that Lawrence was in it too.” Sean murmurs, blushing and looking down.

“No!” Elyse shakes her head quickly. “Sean, no! We’re going to all date each other, we’re not leaving anyone out.”

“Wait, we are dating? When did this happen?” Lawrence asks and Elyse looks at him.

“Now. We’re dating now. Right now.” She says, firmly. “My boys.” 

“Cool.” James says, smiling. “Fuckin’ taken long enough. I’m pretty sure we’ve all wanted to fuck each other since day one.”

“No.” Sean cuts in, then ducks his head. He blushes more when he’s drunk. “I don’t- I don’t want to… Have sex? But I’m, like, down for dating. I think.”

“Nice.” Adam nods. “Are we- Like, are we actually doing this?”

“Yeah, why not?” Bruce asks. “It’s a good idea. We’re all kind of fucked over for each other, anyway.”

“We’re like, pretty drunk, though. So we should talk about it when we’re sober.” She moves Joel out of her lap and stands. “I’m going to bed.” She stands in the doorway for a few seconds, watching them. “Okay, if none of my boyfriends get up to come and snuggle with me in the next three seconds, I’m breaking up with all of you.” Adam trips over himself getting up and Joel falls on top of him in on odd act of gravity and Sean nearly falls off the sofa before standing shakily.

“Yeah, you take them, these two are mine!” James grins at her, wrapping his arms around Bruce and Lawrence. “Elyse, we got them!”

“Shut up!” Elyse says, urgently. “They’re going to know we were planning.”

“You know we can hear you, right?” Adam checks, still on the floor and under Joel. Elyse shakes her head at him.

“Why are you on the floor? I said come cuddle with  _ me _ , not with Joel.” She sighs and turns and she has a small posse following her to her room.

They do end up talking about it the next morning over greasy food and painkillers and water. The previous night is a blur, the only thing Adam remembers is the love and weird way Elyse ended up asking them out, no one else remembers much either, Sean probably remembers the most because he tells them how much each of them drank. It’s good. This is good. Adam has never been more happy about getting drunk before.

It doesn’t take that much getting used to, to be honest. The only things that change are that they kiss each other more and when they go out to dinner or the movies, they’re called dates. Adam is head over heels and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

The sex is good too, even though it takes a bit to work up to it. Sean turns down their offers, their invitations to the bedroom, and the group gets worried. Sean has to refresh their memories, remind them that he already told them and tells them again that he’s asexual, he doesn’t want sex, he doesn’t care if they have it, he just doesn’t want it. They take turns sitting out with him after that, playing shitty video games or watching equally shitty video games. Life is fine.  
“Boys, I got news!” Joel crows one day, walking into the kitchen with his hands thrown up. Elyse raises an eyebrow behind her coffee mug. “Boys and Elyse, I got news!” She nods, satisfied.

“What’s up?” James asks, flipping another pancake on the griddle. He does a fist pump as it lands and nearly hits Lawrence in the face.

“There are some rumours about some immortals in a lake a bit north of here.” Joel rolls his eyes and shakes his head.

“Immortals in a lake? Like, mermaids?” Sean asks, confused. 

“No, not like mermaids.” Bruce chuckles. “Joel, are you gonna take this one?”

“Yeah, sure.” Joel snaps. “So! There’s a big conspiracy about getting rid of immortals. You supposedly can’t kill ‘em, right? If there’s an immortal bugging you and your gang, what’re you gonna do? Catch them and weigh them down and throw them in a lake. Can’t get out, boom! Problem solved. I don’t have any record of immortals leading to the lake, though, but who knows? There could be _bodies_.” Sean looks worried.  
“Like, still living ones? People like us?” He asks and Lawrence nods.

“Yeah, supposedly. Kind of doubtful, but we might as well check it out, just send a couple of us and dive.”  Lawrence explains.

“Sounds like a plan.” Adam says, stealing a pancake off the griddle and tossing it on the counter immediately. “Fuck! That’s hot!”

“What you get for stealing.” Elyse reprimands, taking the pancake off the counter and waving it, trying to get it to cool off. “Mine now. This is your punishment, love.” She bites into it, grinning. 

It's James who turns the ‘Hey apparently there's a lake where they drown immortals’ into ‘Hey let's  _ all  _ go dive in the lake where they drown immortals it sounds like a great day out’ because really, who else would it be? They turn it into a holiday. It makes sense, it's summer and the asphalt streets radiate heat in the city. Glare is everywhere, bouncing from window to window to window- it's a lot to deal with. Too hot, too sweaty, perfect for driving out of town to somewhere cooler and, you know, with a  _ lake.  _

It's probably the best decision they've made in their long, long lives.

Stepping out of the car, Adam stretches long and slow. The seven seater may be nice but it is  _ cramped _ and his legs do not appreciate being squashed for that long. He turns, does a quick head count and then looks pointedly at James. He watches the blue eyes roll before he actually leans down to lower the seat.

“About time.” Elyse huffs, she flicks her ponytail back, from how she'd been trying to keep the heat off her neck. Sean stumbles out after her, falling into her back with a little ‘oof’ and it's pretty cute. Even the annoyed noise he makes at their laughter is. Spoole’s cute. 

Outside is beautiful. The sky is such a pure shade of blue and the clouds accent it with a perfect white. The grass waves in the wind, the feeling one of the best things they've all ever felt. It washes away the stickiness of the city, replaces it with this strange, new atmosphere. Or just reduced humidity. They're interchangeable, really.

Bruce leads the way up to the small log cottage they'd loaned out. It's picturesque against the summer sky and the blazing sun, a perfect picture painted in real life. Joel pulls Elyse along, and Sean is wrapped around Adam's arm. They chatter on their way up and it's obvious from James’ vibrating he's excited to get on the lake. So, they pretty much throw the suitcases into the bedrooms (Elyse’s is largest - mostly because she's packed everything the guys forgot and then it's Joel’s because dresses do not compress) and after that they're rushing out the door. The path down to the lake is gravel and James slips at least three times in his rush. Lawrence is there each time to grab him and steady him once more. 

The boat that they ‘totally didn't steal no way, Jose’ is docked at the pier waiting for them. The scuba gear is packed on the back, five sets so two of them can stay back on the boat. They'd already decided on Spoole and Joel. Mostly because there's definitely the chance that there's going to be a fair share of dead bodies in that lake and they know how squeamish Joel still is and they certainly know that they don't want Spoole to see that. They forget sometimes, how old he actually is. Especially when he lets out squeaks at the sight of a dead bug. So, they all kit up, running through the various partner tests to ensure the equipment is safe. Of course, the main focus is on Adam but none of them will actually  _ admit _ that. Adam notices how they only double (and sometimes triple) check his equipment but he can’t quite bring himself to comment. There’s more interesting things this time than an argument. 

The boat ride out there is both peaceful and daunting. You see, there’s no proof that the rumour is true. Yet, as they stare out across the gentle ripples of water, it feels like desecrating something sacred. This feels like stepping across a graveyard, of spirits that have gotten no rest. It’s haunting. For a moment, Adam wonders if he actually dares to enter the water. All those worries dissolve though, with Elyse’s wide smile as she stares out to the sea. Her hair flows out behind her, waves in full form from her earlier dip (aka James pushing her into the shallows as they equipped their kit.) He knows they’ll have to put their hoods on soon but then it’s official. Adam doesn’t want that quite yet.

“I wonder how far down it goes.” Sean mutters, coming up beside Adam to lean over the railing. Adam looks down into the murky depths and shudders. It doesn’t look like there is a bottom. Just a tired looking brown. 

“I’d rather not know.” Adam says, and Sean turns to him with a confused expression. 

“You do realise you’re diving to the bottom of that?” He sounds genuinely confused, and Adam can’t help reaching over to scruff his hair. Sean squawks, his hand flying up to try and pull Adam off. Adam smiles at the sight. He wonders sometimes how Sean is really centuries old, far older than he could ever imagine living. 

“Doesn’t mean I have to know how deep it is.” Adam says, before walking back to sit down. The kit is heavy on his back, and he wonders at what point Lawrence will decide to dive. He’s going to be tired just from carrying the gear. Thus, it seems like a wondrous miracle when the boat finally slows to a stop, floating out over the open lake. Lawrence stands, pushing his hair back and slinging his buoyancy vest back on. Joel steps forwards to adjust it and make sure everything’s secure. Lawrence acts annoyed but Adam manages to spot the affectionate little smile.

“We’re ready to dive.” Bruce announces. 

“What are the hand gestures again?” James interrupts, holding up his hand like a schoolboy. Bruce rolls his eyes, and Adam doesn’t bother listening as he goes through them for what must be the fifth time. Instead he sits on the edge of the boat - the gate now opened - and leans back to watch the water. It looks so innocent, the wind sending ripples across the surface. It’s scary. Elyse sits next to him, wraps an arm around him like the asshole she is. Her suit is still wet, her hood finally pulled on over her hair. Adam remembers his, quickly dips his hand into the water to slick his hair before pulling it on.

She grins, “You excited for the water?” Adam snaps his mask disapprovingly and she laughs. “You’ll be fine, you’re with us!”

“Okay, so, not really encouraging me there.” Adam starts, “We’re either going to find dead bodies or nothing under there, Elyse. I don’t know what I’d prefer.” 

“Or,” Elyse waves her hands, fingers fluttering like a magic spell, “ _ alive bodies. _ ” Adam frowns at her, hopes he can convey his utter hatred with just his eyes. It doesn’t work and it likely never will, Elyse just continues to smile.

“Okay, kit is on. Stay close to each other everyone or I’ll pull out the baby harnesses.” Bruce leans over to them. Elyse rolls her eyes, gently taps Bruce’s mask covered nose.

“We’ll be  _ fine. _ ” She assures him. Somehow, Adam knows they’re both thinking about how he might not be. Elyse gives one final grin before she salutes, leans backwards and lands in the water with a loud  _ splash. _ It’s a moment before she’s properly on the surface of the water. She goes back under before she manages to find the right button, puts more air in her jacket. “Okay, so step one is you want to float!” She calls, holding her regulator away from her mouth. She kicks a bit away from the boat before waving them in.Lawrence is next, falling back with practiced ease. The boat shakes oh so slightly from his force, and Adam knows it’ll be the same for him as James pushes him forwards. Adam rolls his eyes as he puts the regulator in, grimacing at it. He pinches his nose and leans back like Lawrence had shown him. There’s that brief moment before he hits the water and then there’s the pressure on his back, his weight dragging him down and his vest dragging him up. He takes a breath underwater, feels the air in his lungs anyway. He doesn’t even notice Elyse’s hand pulling him back until he opens his eyes and sees it.

“Let the others in, gosh Adam!” She laughs. Adam tries to scowl at her with the regulator in his mouth. It fails and she laughs harder. Adam hates her (which also always fails.) He jumps when James suddenly hits the water, rocking him and Elyse shrieks in both joy and surprise. Lawrence shakes his head at her. Adam watches as James approaches and knows he’s trying to imitate Jaws. He’s awful at it. He does however pull his head out of the water with all the elegance of a drowned dog. 

“It’s me!” He calls. 

Lawrence sighs, “I never could’ve guessed.” James smiles at him, tries to force himself through the water to hug Lawrence.  _ Tries _ is the key word, water and the weight of the tanks are a cruel, cruel thing. He kinda just, flops. Into the water. Adam laughs around the regulator. James is about to throw a rebuttal, some kind of defense and then Bruce is in the water too and they all bob up and down until the water resettles once more. 

“The crew’s all here!” Elyse smiles, and she’s attempting to do some kind of triumphant pose in the water. It isn’t quite working? Adam thinks? Elyse is a true mystery of a woman. 

“Right, does everyone who isn’t James remember how to safely descend?” Bruce asks. James pulls a face.

“I only forgot the signs!” He defends. Adam throws up an ‘OK’ sign just to taunt him. Elyse smirks from where she’s submerged her mouth into the water. He can see it in her eyes. 

“Okay James, how do you descend safely?” Bruce asks. James’ smirk matches Elyse’s. They are truly made for each other, huh. 

“Like this.” He says, and then he’s holding up the button and descending. Bruce watches for all of half a second before he tells Lawrence to go down and make sure he doesn’t actually kill himself.

“Okay, follow me. Try not to land on them,  _ please. _ ” Bruce says, as he sets out the buoy. Adam follows the rope as it falls into the darkness. It’s a long way down. 

“I’m making no promises.” Elyse comments, “Have you seen my husband’s mouth? It’s  _ perfect _ for sitting on.” Bruce chokes briefly and Adam’s regulator actually falls out from his shocked laughter. Elyse looks far, far too smug. 

“We’re,” Bruce shakes his head, puts the regulator in. He thumbs down, holds up the button and begins to slowly release the air. Elyse follows, holding her’s up and Adam does too. He keeps hold of the rope, a comfort, if anything. Elyse rockets down, and Bruce actually has one hand on her and one on the rope briefly to pull her back up to their level. She pouts but makes a big show of actually  _ holding the rope _ this time. They descend slowly - Bruce is ever the cautious - and do regular nose pinches on the way. Most of the time Adam only remembers after watching Bruce do it. Elyse copies begrudgingly because popped eardrums are still not fun experiences. It gets darker as they go down. Adam realises that he’s now in the darkness he looked at in fear. It’s an odd feeling. They actually catch up with the rope, and Bruce unravels it in his hand, leads it down. Adam is surprised it’s long enough to come with them to the bottom.

Speaking of that, there’s no experience quite like touching the floor and realizing that the floor is not a floor. Adam would’ve screamed if he weren’t in the water, the ribcage literally snapping under the momentum of his descent and the years it could’ve been under the water. James is already waiting there, Lawrence swims up beside him. Despite the murk, he can see fear, actual recognisable  _ fear  _ in their eyes. Adam hovers above the floor, desperately holding the rope to try not to touch it again. Even Elyse seems unnerved, and Adam remembers, _ realises,  _ that these are the remains of people that were suspected of being like them. Adam remembers the world isn’t like how he knows it, that his friends are hated for being what they are. There’s a tight, gripping feeling in his chest. It feels like he’s suffocating and then Elyse is at his side, holding so tightly to his arm he can feel it through the suit. She wobbles her hand, ‘You okay?’ and Adam slowly nods, returns the OK symbol. She continues to look at him before she scoots back a tiny bit. Bruce and Lawrence both have their flashlights on, and Adam can see, under the white light, the full colour of the bones. Fabric clings to some of them, the various weights used to drag them down. They cover the lakebed and he doesn’t think he’ll ever feel like this again. It’s horrifying. There’s no words to describe it, to describe how much he wants to abort everything right there, leave and never look back because this is, not right. This is wrong, this is so wrong and  _ fuck  _ he’s glad Joel and Sean never have to experience this because, this isn’t something that will go away overnight. Adam didn’t think he could feel fear like this anymore.

Elyse takes his hand then, pulls him away. Away from what he isn’t sure because there’s so many skeletons everywhere it’s impossible to even see what belongs to what anymore. And he’s moving them, disturbing them. There’s nothing worse than that. It’s like the feeling on the boat as he imagined this sight except now, now it’s here. It’s real. He tries so hard to not touch anything, yet he knows his fins are likely hitting the bones of innocent people, innocent people killed because his friends are so terrifying they have to be thrown into a lake to eternally  _ die  _ because they scare people. What must it be like, to be seen as so much less than a human, that that is a suitable fate for anyone? Elyse’s hand stays in his, and even though he can barely feel it through their thick gloves they both wear, it offers comfort despite everything around them. Despite the crushing weight of the water and what is really hidden in it. He doesn’t think he’s going to be able to swim in a body of water again. 

Then it gets worse and in any other situation, Adam might have thrown up. James was waving the torch around, antsy as ever. Fidgeting is his coping mechanism and it is an arguably good one. Adam just holds Elyse’s hand, carefully breathes. In and out, repeat. At some point he starts to hold it in between. It helps. Until the light flashes over something that isn’t white and isn’t the muddy ground and they all freeze. Elyse tries to block Adam’s view, but it’s already too late. He saw it, like they all did, and he can see Lawrence rushing over, Bruce barely inches behind him. 

It was a  _ body. _

It, it wasn’t bones. It was an actual, not decaying body. Adam feels like he’s just been stamped on, something that’s become far too common since he got involved in all of this. He finally pushes past Elyse, and she follows after him, hands trying to pull him back but it’s impossible in the water. He knows that she would be making all kinds of panicked noises right now. In his head, he can imagine the yelling if they weren’t this far under the surface. Instead, it’s just an eerie silence. He pinches his nose, breathes out, just so he can hear the movement of the water again. Just to hear,  _ something. _ Adam doesn’t see the sudden movement, but he does feel it. The water jolting and moving because the fucking body moved and what the fuck, why, why oh  _ god.  _ He can see now, can see Bruce carefully moving with the other regulator (Octo, he thinks to himself if only for some humour.) Adam hovers by them, and as he does he looks at this person. The guy is slightly floating, but obviously weighed down by something Adam doesn’t look closely enough see (he can’t bring himself to.) What must’ve been a shirt has been worn by time (fuck) even if the trousers have fared better. Adam tries not to think about how they look like something in a history textbook, doesn’t need that right now. This body, person,  _ immortal’s,  _ hair is long, and it floats upwards in the water. His eyes are shut, but Bruce holds the regulator to his mouth and Adam can see the bubbles float up from it. Bruce is pinching his nose, and they’re all sharing looks, making wild gestures Adam can’t understand (it’s sign language, he realises. He also later finds out what they were saying, as he learns because it’s so vivid in his head that they were considering leaving him  _ here  _ because he might be  _ dangerous. _ ) Elyse finally shakes her head, grabs Adam and pulls him away. She gives a thumbs up, pulling them both to the buoy and Adam has no choice but to follow her. They ascend slowly, Adam staring in the direction of the darkness more than he’d like to admit.

There’s light, and then finally the two of them break the surface. Elyse is pulling her regulator out, and it bubbles violently in the water before she hisses and turns it over. She then drags Adam on his back with his handle, drags him to the boat. Adam is still, dazed, disassociated, he doesn’t know but nothing’s quite real and yet everything is far far too much. Elyse pushes Adam up onto the boat before she climbs up herself and Adam just sits there, stares out across the innocently rolling waves. Meanwhile, Elyse is slinging her mask off and it lands heavily beside her. Sean flinches, and Adam actually notices the two standing there. 

“Do I want to know?” Joel asks. He’s nervous, Adam notices. Joel is nervous and Adam can tell in the way his voice shakes and Adam’s half dazed mind can still scream out that this is wrong, so very wrong. Adam wishes his mind would decide to let him zone out completely or launch him into a full anxiety attack because it feels as if he’s walking a tightrope between the two.

“There was a fucking body, Joel.” Elyse says, and her voice is venomous, vicious, “A fucking  _ body _ .”

Joel chokes on his own breath for a moment, “What?”

“There were fucking bones, the entire lakebed was covered in bones and in those bones was a body and if they dare leave them there I am going to personally kill every single one of them.” Elyse says, and she means the words. “I cannot believe they even suggested it, why, how could you?” Sean walks over, embraces Elyse and buries himself from the world.

“I,” Joel fails to form words, his mouth just hangs open. He shakes his head, closes it again and it seems like he just  _ closes up.  _ Shoulders draw in, hands in front of him and it’s all wrong, wrong wrong  _ wrong. _ “Adam?” Elyse turns to him, see what’s happening and her face softens.

“Oh, Adam, honey.” She whispers, dropping to his level and gently taking him out of his kit. It helps, in an odd, peculiar way. Then, she helps him to his feet and sits him on the bench. Sean stays attached to her as she does and Adam wishes he could appreciate it. They're still both dripping wet, and Adam feels tainted by the very water of the lake. He catches Elyse’s gestures to Joel and he sits beside Adam. The two lean against each other and Adam knows Joel must be uncomfortable yet he doesn't say a word. And then for a long moment, all is still. The boat bobs slowly up and down, a bird flies overhead and casts a shadow across them all. Bubbles still rise and pop to the surface. Yet, all is still. None of them talk, Sean looks a whole step away from crying and Joel, Joel just seems so incredibly haunted. (Un)helpfully, Adam's brain supplies that Joel keeps track of immortals. It also supplies that this might be an immortal Joel knows, was researching and he squeezes his eyes shut and the pressure surprises him. 

The moment is shattered by Lawrence, who yells out a, “Help, please!” That has Joel and Elyse rushing over (Elyse pushes Sean to Adam and Adam accepts that he is Not To Get Involved.) There’s yelling then, the yelling Adam would have expected underwater if it were possible. Elyse is kneeling down, helping pull all of them onboard the boat as best as she can. James is first, and then the two of them are pulling Lawrence up. It seems like a mess, and Adam’s pretty sure it is, trying to get the immortal onto the boat. Adam doesn’t even know if they’re awake, but they certainly don’t seem to be helping themselves. Somehow, between them, they manage to haul the guy up into James’ arms. He retreats slightly back with guy as they help Bruce. Adam takes the opportunity to instead examine the immortal.

There’s a lot to be said about what who knows how long underwater can do to you. The skin is still perfect and Adam places that to being an immortal thing. They are however, incredibly pale and Adam hopes they have sunscreen because they’re going to need to it and  _ fast. _ Their hair sticks to their face, though Adam can already see the slight waves in it. It’s a frizzy mess, and some of it catches on their shoulders. He was right about the clothes, because any scrap of fabric that was making their shirt is gone now. Their breath catches every few seconds and Adam doesn’t want to imagine the kind of thoughts that must be rushing through their head. He wonders briefly what they must have done to end up like,  _ that. _ Then he expels any of those thoughts because they open their eyes, and they look terrified. Adam is the only one who sees, and the two of them briefly make eye contact. All the others are distracted, Bruce finally managing to get on the boat. So it’s Adam who sees the panic cross their mind, and Adam knows the look of someone about to do something incredibly stupid. He stands and then the immortal is moving and oh  _ fuck. _

It’s like a slow motion disaster, the immortal tries to move, tries to stand and do something Adam can’t even work out and then he’s gone. The splash silences all of their yelling, and there’s a stillness before the chaos. Joel jumps, because he’s a fucking idiot, and Adam barrels after the both of them, almost pushing Bruce out of the way (thinking on it, Adam knows he’s also an idiot.) He dives as fast as he can, and manages to spot Joel in the water. Another second confirms that Joel has a hold of the immortal so Adam pulls. It’s an exchange, Adam pulls himself down but they go up, back towards the surface. And it’s about that second when Adam remembers a couple of things, the priorities being he isn’t wearing his kit and that he  _ can’t breathe. _ He’s disorientated, the world still slightly spinning in the water. His eyes sting and he can’t tell what direction is up (and boy isn’t that a stereotype he never believed in?) It’s also in that moment Adam does something that he knows he will never live down but didn’t even realise he was doing at the time.

Adam breathes in.

It stings, oh  _ god  _ it stings. It feels like his lungs are burning, tearing themselves apart from within him and he worries he might not recover from this, this might be it. What an ironic fucking fate. But then he’s moving again, a pull through the water and it’s dizzying and he’s tired but so awake at the same time.

The air hits his head and he coughs, tries to breathe but the water is still in his lungs like some kind of blanket. He feels the moment he’s back on (sort of) solid ground, and he doesn’t know how long he sits and just coughs because he physically cannot do anything else. He’s positive the others must be shouting and they must be scared, angry? It should probably concern him that he can’t hear what they’re saying but there’s a lot of things that happen after you nearly die. Hopefully they won’t mind him being self centered for a bit. And then lips are on his. Adam thinks this whole situation is all a bit too cliche for him until he realises that whoever it is (he thinks it’s Elyse, barely recognises the lips with the wetness) is actually giving him cpr. The air is like a precious miracle, and Adam lets himself be lowered back onto the ground. His head is in someone’s lap, and they keep at it for as long as they take for them to run out of breath. Adam feels less out of it, more like he’s grounded besides the intense pain of his chest. When the person sits back - and it is Elyse - her face is painted in such worry that Adam never wants to see again in his life. She only pauses for a brief moment, her wet hair hanging down and lit up from the sun behind her, and she looks like a living angel, before she leans back in again. And she continues until Adam can think again, his heart isn’t racing and his chest still burns, throat is sore, but he thinks he’s  _ okay.  _

“Eh- ‘Lyse?” He chokes out, name not quite coming together as one whole. She stares at him, eyes wide, before she sobs, falls onto his chest and holds him so, so tightly. Adam realises now that he’s in James’ lap, and James runs his hands through Adam’s hair, pushing it back out of his face. And Adam can’t see the others, is too concentrated on Elyse sobbing into his chest because she is so so beautiful and she doesn’t deserve this. “I-” Adam coughs instead.

“Don’t you dare try and speak, you fucking  _ idiot! _ ” Elyse looks up, her eyes red and misty, tears still running down her face. “If there’s anyone I don’t expect to have to pull half conscious out of a lake it’s you- you could have  _ died! _ ” Adam already knows this, but hearing somebody else say it, it’s hard and it’s sudden. An awful realisation that he could have just died. He could have died in a lake trying to save two  _ immortals  _ because Adam doesn’t believe in thinking before acting. 

When Adam finally manages to look up, to look around, he realises that most of them are looking at him. They’re scared, worried, fuck Lawrence looks  _ angry. _ Joel is still sat in a heap on the floor, hand on his chest and looking completely unlike Joel (Joel hasn’t been like Joel since they came back up. Adam is concerned about that, so scared they might have broken Joel. Is that possible? Adam stares at him a bit longer than needed, his eyes are wide and looking unfocused at the ground. His curls are plastered to his face. He looks like he’s seen a ghost and maybe he has.) Bruce is cradling the immortal in his arms, holding them close to his chest. They look at lot more peaceful now, and Adam realises that’s because they’re unconscious but really it’s a nice look on them. The peaceful part, not the unconscious one. 

Adam tries to sit up, assisted by James and not Elyse who lies across him and refuses to let go. He’s barely upright when Sean almost tackles him straight over again. Lawrence takes his other side and their weight is so reassuring. It’s wet and it’s a mess but that’s just them, isn’t it? Sean glances up, away from the hug (after several minutes still.) He slides away and all eyes are on him.

His voice breaks slightly when he asks, “Joel, are you okay?” And Joel looks up at him with something akin to surprise and the look in his eyes is distant, scared. His first attempt to speak fails, chokes out.

“Just, I want off this godforsaken lake.” Joel shakes his head, doesn’t move beside that. And Lawrence nods, because it’s suddenly gotten colder, a harsh breeze across the water and at this point, there isn’t a single person on the boat who’s dry. Even Sean is damper than he should be. So Lawrence moves up to the front of the ship and the others separate. James pulls Adam who pulls Elyse who pulls Sean and they all sit as close as they can on the bench, huddled together like penguins. James flicks his head at Bruce, motions him over to join them, despite the immortal he cradles like a child. And though Joel doesn’t move, Sean reaches over and pulls him to sit at their feet. And Joel visibly sighs, pulls his knees up to his chest and buries his head in them. Sean frowns at the sight, and reaches down to play with Joel’s hair (and would it be bad to admit that Adam felt relieved as he leant back into the touch?)

The immortal doesn't wake as they get off the boat. They're still curled into Bruce’s chest and Bruce refused the multiple offers to take them off him. Adam notices how the immortal is loosely clinging to Bruce’s suit and wonders if they're faking unconsciousness. Adam wouldn't blame them. If it wouldn't concern the others he'd probably do the same. As they walk away, Adam swears James mutters something about burning the boat. He barely hears though, because then Elyse takes his hand and she pulls him ahead, into one of the bedrooms. She sits him on the bed, then pauses.

“Shit, I need a towel.” She groans, turning and opening the suitcase. As she searches through it, she talks to Adam, “Okay, you are going to sleep and when you wake up it's food time and shower time - got it?” She turns towards him at the last part. Adam bows his head, nods slightly. 

“Yes Elyse,” He replies and she gives him an affirming nod. 

“Good boy.” She walks over with the towel. “Now let's get you out of the wetsuit and into something dry.” And you know, any other time Adam would complain at being babied but right now he is tired, oh so tired that he can feel it in his bones and his movements. He actually appreciates it. Elyse is gentle, soft where he is not, and despite her still dripping onto the floor, she makes sure Adam is changed, into warm but loose clothes, before she tucks him into the bed. Her smile is full of warmth Adam hadn't realised he was missing as she brushes through his hair. But then she steps back, and Adam reaches out for her. 

“Stay.” He pleads, so quiet for a brief moment he thinks she might not hear him. Yet she stops, turns to look at him with a sad look.

“Sorry, baby boy, I don't trust the others with the immortal by themselves.” She shakes her head and Adam completely understands. None of them have the best track record at this point. She laughs, “We have a knack for finding the broken ones, right? I'll send someone else in.” She blows a kiss and when the door knocks shut Adam settles into the duvets. He's asleep by the time someone joins him.

Adam wakes up next to Joel, halfway off the bed, blankets tangled around his arms and ankles. He detaches himself slowly, careful not to wake Joel. Even in sleep, there's a worry etched into his features that Adam would do anything to get rid of. He settles for just a gentle kiss on the forehead. Then, he pads out of his room, closing the door behind him.

Someone is cooking and Adam realises with a pang exactly how hungry he is.

Bruce is standing next to the oven and Elyse is leaning against the cupboards. The immortal is sitting at the counter, wide-eyed and looking at everything with pure curiosity. He’s wearing a hoodie, probably one of his, and a pair of jeans, probably Spoole’s.

“He-” Adam’s voice rasps in his throat and he breaks off into a coughing fit. Elyse looks at him, surprised, and grabs a glass, filling it with water and giving it to him. He drinks and waits a few seconds to talk again. “Hey.”

“You fucker.” Elyse says, voice low. “What were you thinking? You could’ve died!”

“I’m sorry.” Adam apologizes, letting Elyse wrap her arms around him. “All I was thinking about was that Joel could die and I didn’t realise how wrong I was.” And about the immortal, the fear in his eyes as he tried to  _ get away  _ (because now Adam thinks about it that's all that could have been. A desperate attempt to  _ flee. _ ) But he refuses to say that aloud, to burden Elyse with knowing.

“You big dumb.” Elyse murmurs, letting Adam go. “Don’t do it again. Ever.” Adam nods.

“He doing well?” He asks, nodding his head at the immortal. Elyse sighs.

“Don’t know. He doesn’t talk, maybe he can’t, maybe he just doesn’t remember, I’m not sure. I’ve got him to understand the nod shake head thing, though.” Elyse bites her lip. “I don’t know how long he was in there. It was a while though, based on the rope and his clothes and… It worries me, Adam. James and Lawrence are out searching for stuff about him in the library paper archives. Joel stayed up all night looking for stuff online before I got him to go to sleep. Sean is around here somewhere, he’s a bit shaken up.”

“How you feeling, Adam?” Bruce calls over his shoulder, sliding a large amount of sausage and frittata onto a plate.

“Not the best, but I think that’s to be expected.” Adam admits. He moves further into the kitchen, looking at the immortal. The immortal looks back, dark eyes meeting his own. Adam brings his hand up and waves. A second later, the immortal does the same, mirroring him. “Is he okay? Not hurt or anything?”

“No long lasting damage as far as we can tell.” Bruce slides the plates across the counter to the immortal. “A bit malnourished, but that’s to be expected. He doesn’t recognize a lot of stuff, but that might be because he’s a bit waterlogged or because he’s never seen it before. We’re keeping him, though. Elyse said so.”

“We can’t exactly throw him out!” Elyse says. “Look at him!” Adam looks at the immortal again, who is slowly prodding at the food with a fork. “He’s lost here, he needs someone to take care of him.”

The next few days are an odd limbo of events. The immortal seems to understand more of what they say, but he still isn’t capable of talking. They keep feeding him, try to include him, let him wander around the apartment and just look at things. It’s weird to watch this man, who Adam knows is older than he is, even if he doesn’t look it, look at an iPhone and not know what it is. And then the next Sunday, Adam brings up a point.

“What if he’s religious?” Adam asks when they’re sitting down for breakfast, gesturing at the immortal who just tilts his head. “Should we take him to church? I mean, he’s been missing it for a while.”

“It’s up to him, isn’t it?” Sean shrugs and the immortal just looks more confused. Sean glances at him. “Do you?” The immortal blinks, then blinks again. This conversation must be over his head.

“Here, give me your knife.” James says, leaning across the table to take Adam’s. He lays it across his own in a cross shape. He points at the immortal who watches intently as James makes his fingers walk over to the cross. He tilts his head again. James points at the immortal. “You.” He points at the cross. “Church.” He makes his fingers walk again. “Going. Do you want to?”

“I’m not sure why you’re saying anything if he can’t understand you.” Lawrence says, watching as James tries (and fails) to mime.

“If I didn’t, it would look stupid.” James says, sarcastically as he goes through the motions once again. 

And then the immortal leans back from the table, hand covering his mouth, and he’s shaking. His whole body is shaking, trembling, and Adam is worried for a split second before realizing that he’s laughing.

“What’s so funny?” Elyse asks and the table seems to relax, the tension bleeds from the air. The immortal shakes his head, pointing from the cross to himself, then to the cross again. He taps his chest, right over his heart, and points at his face, nodding. 

“Oh my God.” Bruce mutters, the breakfast is long forgotten on the table. “Oh my God. Were you Jesus?” The immortal nods enthusiastically. “Fuckin’ Christ.”

“Don’t fuck Christ, he’s right there.” Joel says, looking indignant. “At least ask him first. Safe, sane, and consensual, man.”

“Don’t  _ fuck _ it up now.” Elyse grins and Joel nods, appreciatively, reaching across the table to high-five her.

“This is so weird.” Lawrence breathes, looking at the immortal. “So, so weird.”

“Well, I mean, it’s… Good information to know.” Adam chuckles and the immortal grins, it’s so cute. Unbridled child-like joy. The unbridled child-like joy of Jesus, apparently. Freaky.

“ _ God _ information to know.” Sean chimes in and Elyse yips, nearly knocking over her chair to high-five Sean. The immortal holds up his hand with a small smile and Elyse looks ecstatic, placing her own over his. It’s cute. Shit.

They’re watching a movie in the living room when James shouts in one of the bedrooms. They pay no mind to it until he comes running out, immortal in tow.

“Pause the movie, pause the movie!” James commands. Bruce grumbles as he presses the button on the remote and the movie freezes. “Look, look, watch this!” He points a finger at himself. “James.” The immortal points at James.

“James.” His voice is… Not what Adam expected. Adam isn’t even sure if he expected to hear his voice. He’s grinning so widely, he looks so happy. He points at himself. “Matt.” Elyse nearly screams, jumping up and hugging James before introducing herself to Matt. They do the same, one at a time, and Matt just smiles at them all, re-introducing himself over and over. 

He doesn’t talk as much as Adam would expect him to after that, but he’s probably still learning. Matt is always listening, head tilted to the side (sometimes Adam wonders if it’s because he still feels like he has water in his ears, but he never dwells on that for long), eyes wide. He stays inside the apartment most days, there’s a kind of unspoken knowledge that if he went outside, it wouldn’t go well. It couldn’t go well. But Adam sees him sometimes, leaning on the windowsill and watching the city, watching the lights flicker and the cars crawl across the streets and his breath is fogging the glass. He wants to be out there.

Adam is reasonably sure that Matt has lead a life of crime. Finding him tied up in the bottom of a lake was circumstantial evidence, he could’ve just been hated or a known immortal or something. Adam is still pretty sure though. He’s basing this assumption off the time that Matt got freaked out when toast popped out of the toaster and threw a butter knife at the wall, burying it in the plaster. That’s about all the proof Adam has and all the proof he needs. No civilian can throw a knife like that.

“We’ve got to take him out, Bruce.” Adam says, looking at Matt, who’s watching Bruce pace, eyes trailing the taller man. “He’s going to get cabin fever or some shit.”

“Where exactly are we supposed to take him?” Bruce asks, running a hand through his hair and messing it up further. “We can’t just take him to the mall, can we?”

“We’re going shooting today.” Elyse reminds them, handing Matt a piece of chewing gum and miming eating it. “Don’t swallow it, though. And besides, we’re going to incorporate him into the crew, right?” She hands Matt another piece. “He needs to know how to shoot a gun and how to be around them. We have the place to ourselves, anyway, and it’s not that long of a drive. It’ll be fine.” She gives Matt another piece.

“Well… I guess we could, but if he freaks out, we’ve got to leave. I don’t want to upset him or anything.” Bruce stops pacing and Elyse is smiling, nodding. “Elyse… Stop giving Matt gum, I don’t think he understands.” Adam looks at Matt, who’s mouth is full of chewing gum, cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk. He shakes his head, dragging his hands over his eyes.

“Elyse… You’re a horrible person.” He reprimands. Elyse shrugs. “Go- Fucking- I mean, just, just figure this out.” Adam walks out.

They do end up taking Matt to the shooting range with them. He sits in between Sean and Adam in the very back, he’s wearing one of Bruce’s coats this time and it’s far too long on him. Sean is whispering something to Matt and Adam just watches the city go by outside the window.

“I’m going to beat you all!” Joel says as they pile out of the car. His arms are crossed and there’s a smirk on his face. “You’re gonna fuckin’ bow down.”

“Fuck off, I’m not giving you my money.” James shakes his head. “I’m gonna keep it for myself.” 

“Are we talking or are we shooting?” Lawrence asks, sighing. They groan and grumble as they’re herded inside. 

They shoot one by one, watching the others as they line up their shots and squeeze the trigger. It’s three shots, whoever gets the best hits gets the pool of money. Usually a good few of them waste all three shots on the crotch of the cut out, but usually there’s someone taking it seriously. Matt is standing behind them all, watching, and he’s strangely calm.

“Ha, fuck you!” Elyse crows after she takes her shots. “I think I win.” James groans and rolls his eyes. Matt steps forward, eyes focused on the gun in Elyse’s hand. “You alright?” Matt nods, still looking at the gun. “Have you seen one of these before?” Matt shrugs and Elyse nods. “Well, yeah, these are pretty new an-” Matt takes the gun from her hand and fires off three rounds, straight at the target. Everyone watches with wide eyes as he grins, gun held with a loose grip as he looks at the target and looks back at them. Joel takes the gun gingerly from his hand. 

“Good… Job, buddy.” Bruce says, awkwardly, patting Matt on the back. Matt grins even wider, something Adam didn’t know was possible. James whoops, wrapping an arm around Matt’s shoulders.

“Look! He did the kill shots! Two in the body, one in the head, leaves a man deader than dead.” James smiles even though he shouldn’t be, he just sang a song about killing people, for Christ’s sake. And Christ is right next to him, he’s not exactly racking up points to get into heaven. “He doesn’t need any gun training, he’ll be able to join us in the field sooner! Fuckin’ nice!” 

This pretty much solidifies Adam’s speculation that Matt- Jesus- was a criminal at some point. Weird. He brushes it off like he brushes off the warmth rising in his chest. He doesn’t need to deal with this. 

It’s good and it’s fun and it’s so, so comforting.

They still do heists. They have a name, they have a place, they can’t just go off the radar for a couple of months. So, they trade off, one person staying back from the heists to hang with Matt. Adam pretends not to notice that James always lobbies for him to be the one that stays back. He’s not bitter, no, he understands.

He walks in on quite a scene one day. Elyse and James are sitting cross-legged on the floor, Matt in front of them. He’s watching them intently, Elyse moving her hands in what Adam thinks is sign language.

“What’re you doing?” He questions, watching as James smiles. Whatever it is, it can’t be good, if James is smiling, it is never good. “Are you signing?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah, I taught him.” Elyse says, nodding. “Talking is hard, man, signing is easier.” And Adam has such a deep-rooted sense of respect for his girlfriend, he didn’t even  _ think _ about teaching Matt sign language, much less do it. “And we’re just chillin’. Teachin’.”

“What are you teaching?” Adam hedges, warily. 

“Matt, show Adam what we taught you!” James encourages and Matt looks up at Adam, smiling and Adam gets his hopes up because Matt looks so happy, so excited, so-

“Fuck.” Matt says, still grinning, and Adam blinks, surprised, before patting Matt on the head.

“Good job, Matt. You’ll be just like James soon.” He shakes his head at James and Elyse. “You are both horrible people, oh my God. Look what you’ve done. Look at him. Feel bad.” Elyse shrugs, smirking, and Adam walks out, hands on his face.

It happens again at breakfast the next day. They’re eating quiche or something eggy and James start to smile and Adam knows exactly what’s going to happen.

“Hey, Bruce, you want to hear what we taught Matt?” James asks and Bruce looks up, he’s smiling, he’s such a dad.

“Yeah, of course!” And he sounds so enthusiastic and Adam’s heart falls a little because he knows what’s going to happen and he could stop this right now, but he also wants to see it. So sue him he’s a horrible person. “What is it, Matt?” Matt looks at James, seeking permission and James nods quickly, too quickly.

“Yeah, say it!” James eggs him on and Matt blinks, he takes second, everyone is watching him, eyes on him, stares on him.

“Fuck.” Matt says and he doesn’t understand, oh no, he’s just repeating, mimicking, parroting, he wants praise. Bruce blinks.

“Nice job, Matt! You said it really well!” Bruce says, smiling, and Matt beams, covering his face with the sleeves of his hoodie. “James.” His voice is the same, bright, happy, but he’s staring at James like death. “What the hell have you taught this kid?”

“Hey, it’s not like people haven’t sworn around him before.” James shrugs. “Like, y’know, eh. And he’s not a kid. He’s olde-”

“Kid.” Bruce says, voice firm. “Such a kid. Look at the kid. So little, so young, so kid.” James looks confused, but he nods, going back to his quiche. No one questions what just happened.

Matt starts talking to himself, tiny whispers of words that Adam can’t make out, but he doesn’t really talk to them, can’t quite seem to string words together. 

He’s sitting in the dining room, coffee next to him, Matt is drawing, sketching something in a sketchbook that Adam can’t remember the source of. Elyse is across from them, tapping away on her laptop. Matt looks up, bites his lip, tapping his fingers against the table. He waves his hand, slightly, trying to get Elyse’s attention. She doesn’t see him. Adam opens his mouth to say her name, grab her gaze, but Matt cuts him off.

“But wait, what’s that light in the window over there?” Matt says and Adam does a double take because is that Shakespeare? Elyse snaps her head up. “It is the east, and Elyse is the sun.” Elyse is blushing, beaming, and Matt holds up his paper, showing her the sketch he did of her, hunched over, smiling, typing. Elyse smiles even wider.

“Ah! That’s really good, Matt!” She’s telling the truth, it is really good. The lines are right, the shading, the face, it’s good. “Did you quote Shakespeare?” Matt shrugs. 

It happens more after that, Matt saying quotes- mostly Shakespeare- to get their attention. He can’t quite seem to string his own words together in an order that works for him, so he uses old words with their names in them. It works, Adam has to give him that, it works so well.

Matt is in the living room, looking at the birds outside the window and he’s pointing and Adam is looking, but he wants Sean to look, Sean who’s head is buried in the pages of a book, and Adam waits for Matt to say something this time.

“That which we call Sean by any other name would be as sweet.” Matt’s words carry and Sean jolts upright, blushing, eyes on Matt, and Matt is pointing at the birds.

“Oh! Those are cool pigeons, Matt. Disgusting, beautiful things.” Sean smiles and Matt smiles and Sean goes back to his book. “Love ‘em dearly.” Adam doesn’t want to comment on Sean’s slanted views of the winged rats outside their windows.

Sean does come back from shopping the next day with a bag of bird feed and he and Matt feed the pigeons on the fire escape.

“Et tu, Lawrence?” This one is said rather loudly after Lawrence tries to teach Matt about video games. Lawrence is dying from laughter, watching Matt continually walk off the edge. He gives up rather quickly after that. 

Matt watches people do things, tries to learn things, pick up on things, and Adam, well, Adam watches Matt watching.

He’s watching Joel work the coffee machine, pressing half of the buttons on the side. Matt has his chin on his knuckles.

“Heathens, can’t even go for a French press, have to settle for this machine shit.” Joel grumbles, glaring at the slowly whirring machine.

“Yond Joel has a lean and hungry look. He thinks too much, such men are dangerous.” Matt whispers and Joel spins immediately, looking far too happy.

“How bitter a thing it is to look into happiness through another man’s eyes!” Joel says, hands together. Leave it to Joel to understand every quote that Matt will ever say. “Different play, but still Shakespeare. And I’m Cassius? Nice! Thank you!” Matt smiles, ducking his head. 

He’s trying to get James’ attention, show him something, a letter that came in the mail, but James’ back is turned and Matt’s frantic waving isn't working. Adam watches as Matt speaks.

“Not that I loved James less, but that I loved Rome more!” Matt cries and James spins, surprised, blinking owlishly. Matt holds out the letter and James takes it.

“Oh, thank you.” James glances down at it. “Oh, yeah! I forgot, I donated to this save the bison thing last year. Cool.” Matt nods. Adam shakes his head.

It happens again with Bruce, but honestly everyone was expecting it. Bruce is cooking, stirring something in a pan.

“Tempt not a desperate Bruce!” Matt says and Bruce turns. Matt holds out a small cannister of cayenne pepper, Bruce smiles, taking it. Joel pops his head through the doorway.

“He hath eaten me out-” James snorts and Joel glares at him. “-of house and home. Honestly, that is Shakespeare, James! It is sacred! Don’t defile it.”

“Like you didn’t.” James counters and Joel shrugs, smirking, before ducking back out. James slides off of his stool, chasing after him. “Joel! Joel, what does that mean? Did you fuck Shakespeare?”

“Da Vinci too!” Joel yells, still running, and James huffs.

“So fucking unfair!” James returns and Matt is silently laughing, leaning against the counter. Adam grins.

Adam never really expects to be quoted- which is what James dubbed it-, not at all, actually. He’s always paying attention to Matt. He’s royally fucked.

He’s sitting on the couch at three a.m., reading a book and unable to sleep. 

“Adam is such stuff as dreams are made on, rounded with a little sleep.” Adam looks up, surprised to hear the soft voice, to see Matt leaning in the doorway,

“Oh, hi.” Adam greets. “What’re you doing up? Can’t sleep?” Matt shrugs, slipping over to sit on the couch next to Adam. “I’m reading Shakespeare, y’know, trying to get quotes to use against you.” Matt snorts, signing something which Adam roughly translates to ‘no use, something, something, Joel’. Yeah. He’s not the best at signing yet. “Joel’s always going to beat me.” Adam says and Matt nods, so apparently that was a fitting response. Adam goes back to his book a few minutes later, flipping pages and feeling Matt’s breath warm on his neck as he rests his head on Adam’s shoulder. Matt falls asleep like that, tucked against Adam’s side, looking far smaller than he really is. This just reinforces Adam’s belief of how fucked he is. So fucked. 

He is head over heels for this tiny man centuries older than him with shaggy hair and bright eyes and a rough voice and a far too extensive memory of Shakespeare quotes. Adam hates him. Adam loves him. 

Elyse is cutting Adam’s hair, a pair of far too small scissors in her hands as she snips away at loose strands.

“When did you learn how to do this?” Adam asks as Elyse tilts his head to the side.

“Uh, before the French Revolution, I think. Got fed up with sexism so I cut my hair and dressed up as a dude.” Elyse explains, tilting Adam’s head even farther over.

“Well, you’re good at it.” Adam compliments and Elyse snorts.

“An undercut isn’t exactly hard to do, Adam. It’s what all the teens have got these days.” She teases and Adam wrinkles his nose. “Not that it doesn’t look good, it’s just that out of three people, two of them and their dogs have an undercut.” Adam laughs and she clicks her tongue. “Stop moving or I’ll buzz ‘fuck boy’ into the back of your hair. I mean, it wouldn’t be untrue, but still.” 

“You are horrible.” Adam says and Elyse shrugs.

“I do what I do to get by. Oh, hey, Matt.” She waves at the smaller man standing in the doorway. Adam raises his chin in greeting and Elyse smacks his head lightly. “No moving! I’m not kidding about the fuck boy thing, boyo, I will do it and you will regret every single one of your life choices up until this point.”

“You think I don’t already?” Adam chuckles and Elyse rolls her eyes, running a hand through Adam’s hair and shaking loose clippings onto the ground.

“Alright, you’re done. Take off the sheet so you don’t trail hair through the apartment. And you should take a shower.” Elyse suggests and Adam nods, untying the sheet from around his neck.

“What’s up, Matt?” Adam asks and Matt bites his lip, looking over the two of them. He tugs on his hair lightly and Elyse’s face brightens.

“Oh! Do you want me to cut your hair?” Elyse asks and Matt nods. She claps. “Alright, cool! Adam, you shoo and make room for my next customer. But grab another sheet, love.” Adam rolls his eyes, but does as she says. 

Matt seems much happier later with his hair no longer coming down to his chin. It falls over his forehead slightly and it curls when it’s short, something that Adam didn’t expect, but he learned a long time ago not to assume that anything was straight. It’s cute, it’s a good look for him.

Matt continues to grow more comfortable around them, allowing fleeting touches, sitting next to them on the sofa. He also no longer avoids the microwave like the plague, so Adam thinks that he’s getting more comfortable.

Taking Matt outside for the first time was therefore well overdue. Joel walks in, picnic basket in hand (and where did he even _get that from_ ), swinging it cheerfully. Adam raises an eyebrow from where he’s lounged across the sofa, feet hanging over the end. Sean is sat on top of him and the only other people in the room are Elyse and Matt, the two sat together. Elyse is playing with Matt’s hair and up until Joel had walked in Matt was sat with his eyes closed. If you listened carefully, below the sounds of whatever show was playing, you could hear his gentle hums as she combed through the strands. Joel is wearing one of his dresses, a white skater with butterflies gathered at the bottom, climbing up to the top, a white ring of flowers buried in his hair as an accent; he looks entirely the idyllic image of a summer day out. Which wait, that might be what he’s going for.  

“We're going out.” Joel announces, folding his arms and swaying back and forth on his feet. It looks, awkward, with the basket but this is Joel. There's more than likely a purpose. But, Elyse looks down at Matt and Adam can see how she's blanked her expression. Matt looks up at her as well as he can with her hand in his hair. 

“Joel.” Elyse warns, instead turning her gaze to narrow slightly at Joel. There's a stand-off. Even the air seems to tense with the power the two hold. It's Joel who eventually breaks, but doesn't give up.

“Look, this has to happen eventually and I’d like to do it now, on a beautiful day in the park with all of us.” And Adam has to admit that Joel has actually thought this out, because the park is an odd kind of ‘no crime’ zone. It’s just, some kind of unspoken agreement between all the criminals and nobody's quite sure how it happened. It’s somehow a thing. Elyse looks down to Matt, smiles at him in the hopes that he hasn’t picked up on what they’re discussing. He doesn’t seem to but Matt has never been the kind of person to give away how he feels. It’s a problem but not one they’re addressing any time soon.

“Matt, could you round everyone else up for us please?” She asks, her voice oh so sweet in the way it always is with Matt. Matt smiles at her, nods, and she pats him oh so softly as he stands. He seems pretty relaxed today, it’s nice. Then, the moment is gone, and Elyse turns to Joel with an unhidden fury.

“We are talking about this later.” She warns and Joel responds with a smirk.

“Of course.” He replies, not missing a beat and Elyse may have a hold on him but Joel has a business persona. Which he really shouldn’t be using in the  _ house.  _

“Elyse?” Spoole asks, voice small in his nervous little way. She turns to him, brightens immediately.

“Yes, sweet?” She asks, smiling with all the warmth of the room now. Her cold demeanor is gone and Adam manages to catch Joel scoff, shake his head. He also catches Joel’s fond smile as he does.

“I think it’ll be fun.” He admits, looks scared to even say it. Adam pulls Sean down to cuddle on his chest with a smile because Sean doesn’t express opinions that could get him in trouble and oh wow, that’s a step. Spoole still squeaks, giggles as he goes down before he gets comfortable on Adam’s chest.

“I think so too. We all know he wants to go out there properly. And it’s a park, really, what’s the worse that can happen?” Adam adds, and he can feel Sean relax at the support. He kisses him. Elyse huffs, but she isn’t really disappointed. If anything, she has a proud mother hen attitude towards the others. What part, Adam doesn’t know. He thinks they’ve all been pretty good.

“Good, because I’ve made five picnic baskets worth of food. Do you know how long it took to do that? No, because you didn’t make them. So you best not let my talent go to waste.” He puts his hands on his hips and Adam once again thinks it looks ridiculous with the basket. God, he loves him.

Their picnic is set up under some trees just for that extra bit of shade. They’re all sat around, smiling and chatting. Matt watches everything in a complete wonder and really, Adam can’t help but smile as his curiosity. At one point, he turns to Adam with a smile, pointing at someone cycling past. 

“Bicycle.” He says, and looks so proud of himself for remembering. Adam thinks his bright smile couldn’t even begin to convey the emotion he feels at that (also the fact that Matt knows Adam watches. He feels, something warm with that knowledge, the knowledge that Matt pays attention to him too with so many other interesting things to look at.) 

“Yeah! You ever ridden one?” Adam asks. Matt tilts his head, eyes squinting in thought before he nods.

“Penny Farthing.” He answers, happily. And Adam tries to remember his history lessons of when the bike was invented but all it’s returning is the victorian era. Adam nods, still smiling as he tries to imagine Matt on one of those bikes. He also wonders what else Matt’s done, there’s so much about all of them he could never pretend to comprehend.

“Were you good at it?” Adam then continues. Matt’s smile widens.

“Of course.” And then he turns, goes back to observing and watching the path but now he’s leaning against Adam’s side, the sunlight filtering through the leaves and lighting patches of him. He looks so happy, just watching the world and Adam wishes he could see what he sees. The way Matt looks at the world, he looks at it as if there’s always something more to be found. His gaze is full of hopeful optimism and Adam can’t understand how anyone could hate this enough to throw him in a lake. He, he doesn’t want to think about that. So instead, he moves his arm just enough that Matt falls into his lap and it must be a good day for him, because he laughs, and then stays there. He’s still looking around but his gaze will occasionally turn to Adam and Adam will smile and Matt will smile back. It’s far too adorable for a man far older than he will ever be.

“Joel, I’m glad your time in France paid off because these pastries are amazing.” James says, waving one of the pastries at Joel. 

“Hey, my time in France wasn’t for nothing you know.” Joel says, biting into his pastry. The cream flattens out a little, coating his lips and he grins from behind the pastry.

“Joel, we all know you spent most your time in France learning about wine.” Joel opens his mouth to protest but Elyse cuts him off again “You have a bottle from 1827, you're not fooling any of us!” After that Joel just pouts. The cream is still around his lips and Elyse bursts out laughing.

“What are these called anyway?” Lawrence asks, picking one up himself, “I feel I should recognise it.” 

“A  _ Mille-feuille.”  _ Joel grins, his voice lilting into the language. It’s obviously something that Joel speaks a lot. Elyse nods, clearly understanding what they don’t. Joel shakes his head in disappointment at the other’s blank faces, “It’s basically a vanilla slice.” 

“A thousand leaves.” Matt mutters, and Adam’s the only one who hears him. He’s not sure where it came from but he files it away for later.

“I always wanted to own a bakery.” Joel admits, looking at the pastry, “It’s early mornings and a lot of work but it always seemed like something I’d enjoy.” Then he shrugs as if ready to drop the topic.

“Why didn’t you?” Bruce asks. He sounds like a dad again. Joel looks over to him, frowning as if he’s trying to think of a suitable way to phrase it.

“Just, wouldn’t have worked.” He finally answers. Adam spots Elyse’s small, sad smile at it. She looks sorry. For Joel. Adam feels oddly sympathetic too even if he doesn’t know why. “Plus it would only be me and I don’t think any of you know how to bake-”

“I do.” Matt interrupts. They all look at him slightly surprised and his eyes widen, he hides into Adam. It keeps away any questions.

“Okay so, Matt does but we’re now criminals aren’t we? We can’t exactly just, open a bakery!” Joel reminds them, pulling the attention back off Matt. Matt instead looks up to the sky, reemerging from Adam’s shirt. 

“We’re also immortal, we can put it on like, a to-do list.” James suggests. Adam falls out the conversation a bit after that, enjoying the small cake he managed to grab before all the others stole one. James had asked Matt for his cake and Matt, being Matt, had given it to him. So Adam is mostly enjoying that, watching them all sat around the circle laughing and joking with one another. It’s a few minutes later he notices Matt tense up, and looks down at him to see him looking up with wide eyes.

“What’s up, Matt?” Adam asks, as quietly as he can manage. He also glances up at the sky, seeing nothing unordinary. But Matt seems completely surprised, pointing up.

“What kind of bird is that?” He asks, the most words Adam has personally heard him put together on his own. Adam looks up and sees, a plane? He frowns at Matt, and at this point the others have noticed something’s going on. 

“Wait, you mean that?” Adam clarifies, pointing up at the plane and Matt nods enthusiastically. “You, you don’t know what that is?” And now Matt looks worried and oh, that pains Adam’s heart because Matt never just looks worried he always looks  _ terrified. _ Adam knows Matt has a problem with not knowing things, and especially getting things wrong but, how can he not know an aeroplane? Elyse shuffles over, sitting down closer to them both.

“Matt, do you know what an aeroplane is?” She asks, Matt shakes his head, “Aviation?” Another head shake. She frowns, “Okay then.” 

“The first flight was in 1903.” Lawrence says, looking up from his phone, “I remember it being a massive thing.” He looks at Matt, looks so confused at this new discovery. The others all match, a strange tension of concern and confusion polluting the air. Nobody seems quite sure how to address the situation. 

“I was in another country and I still heard about it.” Elyse adds, to the surprise of nobody really. They all knows Elyse travelled a lot. But it does make it all the more strange that Matt hasn’t heard about it.

“Matt, what’s the last year you remember?” Sean asks, quietly. Matt halts completely at the question, seems to actually struggle to remember. And Adam supposes time must be messed up once you’ve lived for so long, the guys been alive over two thousand years, but it’s still, surely he can-

“18,” He pauses again in his answer, “92.” He finishes and if anything, the guys just get more concerned because  _ oh.  _ Bruce seems to take the reigns though, regains control of the situation.

“We’ll teach you about them later, okay buddy? Now, you have to try this cake it’s amazing.” He passes over one of the small cakes to Matt and Joel suddenly makes an offended noise.

“Bruce, I packed them for me!” He exclaims, tilting forward onto his knees to pull the plate closer to him. Matt flinches back into Adam’s lap, and Joel looks so upset with himself to have done that, “No, Matt, you’re allowed them. Just not these meanies, these are only for true cooks.” And it reassures Matt, he smiles, sits up and takes the offered cake now. And the small happy noise he makes as he bites into it is so, so perfect.

They, don’t really mention the aeroplane discussion after that. They seem to realise that Matt is not, at all, what he seems but they don’t want to push him for more information. There’s not really going to be a way that Matt ended up in the lake that’s necessarily  _ good.  _ They don’t want to force him to relive that. Whatever that was. But that knowledge lingers over Adam now, the knowledge that the last year Matt remembers was a decade ago, and that doesn’t bode well for how long Matt was really in that lake.

It joins the long list of things Adam doesn’t think about.

Lawrence brings something up over breakfast one morning. Sausage and grits and biscuits, something James called ‘a heart Southern meal’. Adam just kind of rolls with it.

“So, there’s an art transport that passes by the city.” Lawrence says and everyone looks at him. “Thought we could take it. Get that black market money, yeah?”

“I don’t see any problems with that.” Bruce shrugs, stirring his grits counter clockwise.

“Yeah, it’s just an art heist. There is one problem, though. We need seven people.” Lawrence glances at Matt for a split second. “Even if we manage to peel James away from Adam, we’ll still need another person. But the payoff for this heist would be huge.”

“Well, what do you think, Matt?” Joel asks, suddenly. “Will you be okay with being here on your own?” There’s bated breath, underlying tension, as Matt blinks, then nods. “Alright. We good now?”

“We still have to get James to let go of Adam.” Elyse shakes her head at James, who looks indignant.

“You can try, but I’m not going to budge.” James crosses his arms over his chest. “You can’t make me.”

“For fucks’ sake, James.” Adam snaps. “I am not a child. I might not be one hundred years old, but I can take care of myself, you hear me? I will be fine. I was in this crew before you were and I don’t want to pull seniority, but fucking Christ, if you don’t leave me alone, I will. I love you, but I can do things by myself, okay? You have to trust me.”

“It’s not that I don’t trust you-” James starts to say, but Adam cuts him off.

“No. No, James. If you trusted me, you wouldn’t have to say that.” They are teetering on the brink of a full out fight, James rising in his seat, Adam gripping the edge of the table with white knuckles. Their hackles raised, teeth bared in primal instinct.

“Boys.” Elyse’s voice cuts through, clear, calm. Adam and James both look at her. “Calm down. Sean and Matt are  _ gone _ .” For the first time, Adam notices the distinct absence of the two. Shit. “James, you will do whatever Lawrence tells you to do. Adam can take care of himself, he’s put up with this for long enough.” James ducks his head.

“Yes, Elyse.” He mumbles, avoiding her gaze. “Sorry, Adam.”

“It’s- It’s okay.” Adam stutters, surprised at Elyse’s hold on James. He probably shouldn’t be, he knows that she has the same grip on him.

“I’m going to go get them back…” Joel stands from the table slowly, retreating into the other room.

The word to describe the room after that isn’t tense, it’s more like it’s been forced into relaxation. It’s odd.

Elyse walks into the kitchen the next day with an iPhone and she slides it to Matt over the counter.

“Figured it was time for you to get one. And because you need a way to contact us when we start leaving you here alone.” Elyse grins at him. “And look! It even has a cute case with a cat on it, Matt. How can you not love it?” Matt looks down at it, touching it gently.

“Cute.” He murmurs and Elyse beams.

“That’s what I thought!” She agrees. “They’re super fun, too. You can do so much on them, it’s like having a library in your pocket, Matt! In your pocket!” Matt smiles, tentatively, jumping back as the phone turns on in his hands. 

“Why don’t you take Matt to Lawrence and have him show Matt how to work it?” Adam suggests and Elyse nods, pulling Matt away. Adam smiles and goes back to his coffee, checking his own phone. 

James and Adam are sitting on the couch the next day, watching some old sit-com that neither of them have ever seen before when Joel strolls in. He glances at the TV.

“I fucked him.” He says, smugly, and James groans.

“Christ, Joel, did you fuck everyone?” James asks and Joel shrugs.

“That’s for you to find out, isn’t it?” He pauses, eyes brightening, “Here’s my phone, I’ve been looking for it.” He grabs it off the coffee table and unlocks it, eyes on the television. “He wasn’t that great, but he wasn’t the worst. Pretty deep set in denial, if you ask me.” He glances back down at the phone. “Shit, this isn’t mine. Is this Matt’s?”

“Does it have a cat case?” Adam asks. Joel flips it over and nods. “Then, yeah.”

“Shit, this guy…” Joel trails off, still looking at the phone in his hands. “His last google search was ‘what year is it?’, oh my God. And the one before that was ‘what is the thing in the kitchen that makes the noises and gets warm’. Oh, shit…”

“Lemme see that.” James grabs the phone and scans the screen quickly. “Oh my God. I’m gonna leave. I’ll be back.” He leaves the phone on the sofa and Adam can hear his footsteps retreating. He can’t bring himself to look at Matt’s phone, he feels sick just thinking about it, the questions that Matt can’t ask them (is too  _ afraid _ to ask them), he fixes his eyes on the still rolling sitcom. The sofa dips as Joel sits down beside him, guiding his hand to run through his curly hair.

The next time Adam sees Matt, he’s sitting at the dining room table next to James, a modern history textbook open while James elaborates on the topics with wild hand gestures. Adam smiles softly, looking at  _ his _ boys, and he leaves them alone. 

The heist day approaches too quickly, marked by trips to the shooting range and Lawrence staying up too late with a calculator in one hand and a glass of scotch in another. 

They group up in the kitchen before they leave for the job, chugging cups of black coffee and exchanging good wishes and good lucks. Adam tucks his gun into its holster and Elyse claps him on the back. They’re ready. 

The sun has broken through its damn and is spilling gold through the city and Adam opens the door to the apartment, slamming it into the wall. He runs his hand through his hair, seething. Matt stands in the hallway, eyebrows creased, watching as they pour in.

“James and Lawrence?” He asks, head tilted to the side.

“Lawrence is delivering the package to a warehouse.” Elyse says, rubbing Adam’s back. “And James got shot, he’ll be here soon. It doesn’t take him long to come back.”

“C’mon, Adam, I’ll make you some tea.” Sean leads Adam into the kitchen. The others disband, retreating to the far corners of the apartment, taking shelter from the brewing storm.

Adam is sitting at the counter in the kitchen, a steadily cooling mug of tea between his hands. Sean has gone off somewhere with Matt, they’re probably watching a movie with Elyse in one of the bedrooms. The apartment door slams and footsteps sound out in the quiet. Adam doesn’t look up as James enters the kitchen.

“Hey.” James says, opening the fridge and pulling out a bottle of water.

“Hey?” Adam looks up, fixing his eyes on James, who blinks.

“Yeah. Hey. It’s a greeting. Like hello.” He waves at Adam dramatically. “Hey.”

“You don’t- You don’t get to come in here and just say ‘hey’.” Adam’s voice is low and cold and James shrugs, taking a swig from his water bottle. 

“Dude, it’s no big deal. I come back like that.” He snaps. “I’m super used to it. You don’t have to thank me or any-”

“Thank you?” Adam’s voice is shrill, indignant. “Why the fuck would I be thanking you?! You weren’t doing your job, you weren’t in your place!”

“The cops were coming, Adam! They were going to kill you!” James protests.

“I had it covered! This just proves that you don’t trust me!” Adam is angry, so angry, he doesn’t think he’s ever been this angry in his life.

“I do trust you!” James slams his bottle down on the table, water sloshing dangerously. “Adam, you could have died! What are we supposed to do with you dead? I’m immortal, Adam, I’d rather die for a few minutes than have you die forever!”

“How do you know?” Adam challenges.

“What?” James asks, confused.

“How do you know that you won’t die forever? You’ve died the most out of all of them and you are one of the youngest. What type of strain does that put on your body? How many times do you come back before you don’t, James?” Adam spits.

“I- I don’t-” James flounders and Adam cuts him off again.

“No. You don’t know. So stop trying to protect me, James, start protecting yourself.” Adam glares.

“Adam… You don’t know what this feels like. I’ve watched people I love die before and not come back. I can’t have this happen to you, Adam, I can’t.” James shakes his head.

“You need to  _ trust _ me.” Adam stresses. “Love is nothing without trust.”

“It’s not that I don’t trust you! I’m scared for you! You are going to get killed and I will do anything to make sure that doesn’t happen!” James shouts, he has snapped.

“Fuck off!” Adam shouts back. “You need to fucking calm down and chill out!! I can take care of myself, I might not be as old as you, but I have a lot more value of my own life than you d- You know what?” Adam runs a hand across his eyes. “You know what? I can’t do this. I can’t do this right now.” He pushes his tea away from him, standing. James moves towards him. “Don’t. Follow. Me.” He leaves, slamming the apartment door behind him, and James is left alone in the kitchen. 

Adam doesn’t know where he’s going. He’s always prided himself on having a good mind for directions, street names, shop locations, something that’s kind of needed when your day job is being a criminal, but that all went out the window when Adam left the apartment. He’s still in the city, still in the confines of the sprawling urbanity and towering buildings that corner him in. He didn’t pay attention to the signs while he was running and he still isn’t looking at them, he can’t care enough to try and find his way home right now, he can’t face James right now. Fucking James. Fuck James. And not in the good way. In the ignore him for a week way, in the not acknowledging his presence way, in the way that will get so extreme and blown out of proportion that Bruce will have to sit him down and make him talk to James because they can’t go on like this, _God_ _damn_ _it_.

Adam sighs. Runs a hand through his hair. Keeps walking. He’s still too angry to think about it. He lets his mind fall into architecture, studying the molds on the buildings, the different kinds of bricks. He’s never really known why he does this, why he reverts back to architecture when he doesn’t want to think about anything, but here he is. Doing it.

Neon falls onto the streets in haphazard reflections, split over the pavement like such shattered glass. Adam still isn’t sure where he is. He’s been walking for hours. His mind is still foggy, he’s still angry, but he should be heading back. He should be back by now, with the crew, ignoring James. Something rustles in an alley, something falls, and Adam whips his head around just in time to see a small figure retreat further into the darkness.

“Hey.” Adam calls out, peering into the alley in the low light, when did it get so dark? What happened to all the lights? “Hey! You alright?” There’s no response, a shuffling, retreating footsteps. Adam edges closer to the mouth of the alley. There’s what seems like a nest a few feet in, old, ratty blankets and clothes piled together in a messy heap. Adam bites his lip. “I’m not going to hurt you.” He moves into the alley. Fuck, he really can’t make good decisions, can he? He walks carefully, avoiding trash and garbage bags, stepping in the few clear spaces. 

There’s someone at the end of the alley. A kid, pressed against the dead end wall, trying to flatten themself against it, trying to disappear. They’re skinny, too skinny, and their hair hangs in uneven strands across their dirt smeared face. They look  _ scared _ . 

“Hey.” Adam says again, raising his hands, palms outward, trying to look as nonthreatening as possible. He takes another step forward. “You got any family?” The kid just looks at him. “I’ll take that as a no. Anyone I can call?” The kid hesitates, but shakes their head. Adam takes another step, he’s close enough to touch them now, but he wouldn’t dare, this kid is skittish enough. They have the same air about them that Sean did when they first had him. “Alright, that’s okay. I’m going to call Social Services, alright? They’ll come and pick you up and take care of you.” Adam moves slowly, the kid watching him, and he pulls his phone from his pocket. “No big deal, they- Fuck!” The kid rushes forward in an instant and-

Holy shit. The kid stabbed him. Adam looks down. Blood covered knife in the kid’s hands. Blood covering his shirt. Holy shit. He touches his shirt. His hands come away red. The kid pushes him gently, manoeuvring him to the ground.

“I’m so sorry.” The kid chokes out, scrabbling through Adam’s pockets. “I’m so sorry, you can’t- You can’t call them.” They pull Adam’s wallet from his pocket, thumbing through it. They pause. Pull something out. Hold it in front of Adam’s face. It’s the picture of the crew he carries around, all grouped together and smiling and hugging, sitting on the couch together. “Is this your family?” Adam nods, wincing against the pain, harsh across his open eyes like the light you see behind your eyelids when you look at something bright. Northern lights in his vision. The kid grabs Adam’s phone from where it fell. They dial the number from the back of the picture and hold it with both hands. Time seems to stretch on. The kid drops the phone. “They didn’t pick up. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to, you couldn’t- I’m so sorry, I’ve got to- I’ve got to go.” They press the photograph into Adam’s hands, standing. Adam listens, looking upwards, as the footsteps retreat.

Time blurs. There’s something dark on the edge of his vision, sitting and waiting like a dog heeling at its master’s feet. Adam feels like this is a skewed simile because death is anything but a dog and he is anything but its master. Death is more like a cat, if anything, watching it’s prey try and escape, try to hobble away, before giving the killing blow. Adam’s the prey, but he can’t escape, can barely move. He clutches the picture of his family tighter in his hands as the darkness floods forward and God, it’s so cold and choking and-

The rest of the crew is still at the apartment, spread throughout it in different groups and pairs. James is alone in the kitchen, head in his hands.

“Hey.” Bruce says from the door and James looks up. “Man, it’s going to be okay. Adam can take care of himself. The only people he puts ahead of him are us and hurt children, and neither of those pose much of a danger to him. Everything’s going to be fine. He’s going to come back tomorrow morning and you’re going to apologize and everything will be okay. It’s going to be fine.” Bruce comes over, rubbing James’ back lightly. “Come to bed, James.”

“I can’t sleep.” James manages, voice rasping. “I won’t be able to sleep.”

“Then just come lay with us.” Bruce’s hands stop and James lets Bruce pull him into the bedroom. He lays alone in the dark, alone in the bed, while Bruce gathers the others.

They trickle in slowly, taking their positions on the sheets until they’re all there but Elyse and Sean, who are probably sitting with Matt somewhere else in the apartment.

James doesn’t sleep, just like he said. He stares at the ceiling in the blackness and listens to the breathing of his boyfriends, the slight noises the only thing separating this darkness from the darkness of death. 

He does stay in bed, though, just laying there and not sleeping and waiting for the sun to break the horizon and when it finally, finally does, he slips out from Joel’s arm and from between the tangled blankets and he makes his way to the kitchen.

He half-expects Adam to be sitting at the counter, looking at him expectantly, waiting for an apology, but he’s not there. Of course he isn’t.

James makes coffee, probably too much coffee, but he is dead tired and he’s going to drink all of it. 

Adam doesn't come back that night. James paces, sits, fuck he  _ cries  _ because this is his fault and the others know it's his fault. He's ruined it all. Maybe Adam isn't coming back? Maybe James has destroyed the whole relationship - a butterfly in a grimy city. It's so hard to survive and if you hold it too hard- he held Adam too hard and now, now Adam’s  _ left.  _ There are no words of comfort anymore, only potent worry and Elyse’s harsh anger as she stormed out. Matt tries to offer James some kind of drink but James moved just the slightest too fast in pushing Matt away and he flinched, and James fell into another spiral. He can't, he can't do anything right. Everything he touches shatters because he is hard, too hard, and it's a viscous,  _ viscous _ thing to be. How can people balance you out if you destroy them? James doesn't sleep that night and nobody else comes near him.

Adam isn't back the next day. James has barely passed out, somewhere around midday, before he's woken up by the front door slamming. He bolts upright and there's hope in heart for all of three seconds before it gets crushed. Elyse throws her coat on the floor, her hair is dripping wet anyway and James didn't even realise it started raining. James watches her as she forcefully relaxes her shoulders, all her anger manifested within her and waiting for a way out. Then she sees James and she's clearly found it.

“James.” She walks over, resting her arms on the counter with a hard, unforgiving stare. James is certain he doesn't deserve forgiveness anyway - not really. This is all his fault, all of it and there's so much he should have done differently and he didn't and look what's happened and it's all because of-

“James are you even listening to me?!” Elyse growls, leaning forward towards him. James flinches back as if burnt. “Oh my fucking god, after all this you don't even fucking listen!” James bristles, bites his tongue in both the metaphorical and physical senses. 

“I’m-I’m listening.” James says, voice low, apprehensive and Elyse glares at him.

"Do you know, do you fucking know how much I love Adam? I don’t think you do, so let me explain. I love him so much that my heart  _ hurts _ when he’s not around. I love him so much that I would die for him, if he let me. I love him so much that I trust him to take care of himself. I love him so much, so Goddamn much. If he comes back, and I do mean if, James Willems, because you, you motherfucker, might have driven him off forever. If he comes back, you better treat with the god damn respect he deserves. You better- You better make his life easier, not harder. James, you're his boyfriend. You love him. But-" This is where Elyse steels herself, wiping unshed tears from her eyes and standing up straight, so straight, mouth set in a hard line. "But if he doesn't come back, I'm leaving too. You've- I can't have another thing ruined for me, James, you know this. And you're... You're the last person I expected to ever ruin something for me, but here we are. Without Adam. At each other's throats. God, James... What are we supposed to do? What can we do?" This is where she breaks. Sobbing. Hands on her cheeks. James reaches out to comfort her and she jerks back. “Don't touch me. I'm going to find Joel." She walks out, leaving James alone again, and this time he doesn’t know if he prefers it. 

Elyse avoids him for the rest of the day. The others stay with her, not with him, she deserves them more, and James stays tucked away in the kitchen.

He can’t sleep again that night, but he didn’t really expect to. Everything is blurry, just a little bit skewed in the witching hour. The sky hangs outside, dark and heavy and low and thunder rumbles, growling at James himself. The door to the apartment creaks open in the background and James is done having his hopes up. It’s probably Elyse, she’s been running in and out of the apartment, looking for Adam, looking for any trace of Adam (He hates how he still got his hopes up until the third time.) James bites his lip, he did this to her.

“Hey.” James looks up, mouth falling open. Adam stands in the doorway, dirt streaked across his face, blood smeared across his shirt.

“Adam!” He nearly trips over himself, wrapping his arms around Adam. “Oh my God, oh my God, I’m so sorry, Adam, I’m so sorry, I do trust you, I love you, I’ll never do anything like that again.”

“It’s oka- Well. It’s not okay, but I understand.” Adam says and James lets him go, still holding tightly onto his shoulders.

“Is that your blood? Oh my God, are you okay?” James asks, plucking at Adam’s shirt and glaring at his fingers as they come away red.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m alright. Kind of tired.” And Adam sounds it, voice rough, rasping. “I’m kind of assuming that’s typical when you get stabbed.”

“What?” James asks, voice caught in his throat. “What the fuck? Do you need to go to the hospital? Someone to stitch you up?” Adam shakes his head.

“No, no, it’s fine. I kind of… Died. That took care of it.” Adam shrugs and James stares at him, eyes wide.

“What?” His voice is too soft, his mind has stopped working. “What?”

“I died. I came back. I’m immortal.” Adam says, searching for something in James’ eyes. “I’m immortal, James.” James surges forward again, wrapping his arms around Adam’s waist. He’s laughing, near hysterical, near tears..

“We have to- We’ve got to tell everyone, oh my God, come on, Elyse is gonna- She’s gonna cry, she’s gonna-” James’ breath is coming quickly.

“Buddy, if you don’t calm down, you’re going to beat her to it.” Adam chuckles as James drags him toward the bedrooms. 

Weeks pass and Adam’s immortality doesn’t wear off, it’s still there, he’s still alive, but he still hates dying, that sensation of dark and cold and  _ choking _ . It does make the heists easier, though, and James lets him be on his own and Adam can understand why James was worried about Adam experiencing death forever, it’s horrifying even for short periods of time. But… They’re all fine. They’re fine.

They’re all grouped around the table, planning another heist, they have to strike while the iron’s hot, make sure they keep their place in Los Santos. Lawrence spreads the city map across the table. 

“We’re hitting this weapons place and this liquor store next door.” Adam points out the two shops. “We’re in the urban choke here, there’ll be cars and traffic and bystanders. We’re trying  _ not _ to kill any of them, James.” James shrugs. 

“We need cover. Our bullets might ricochet and hit some of our own.” Lawrence rubs his eyes under his glasses. “God, this means we’re going to have to hire a sniper.”

“I can roll out my contacts.” Joel offers. “I’ve got a couple choice snipers in my book. I’ve worked with some of them bef-”

“I can do it.” Matt breaks. Heads turn to look at him. “I have good aim, good eyes, I won’t cost anymore money.”

“Matt, if you do it, we’re going to pay you.” Elyse promises. “And are you sure you’re ready to go back in the field?” Matt nods. “Well, okay, then.”

The heist goes over without a problem, Matt sniping from a building across the street and putting bullets in the head of anyone that gets too close to them. It’s good and they work as a unit, they fit perfectly. 

Matt fills their sniper position after that, firing from afar and keeping them as safe as he can manage. It’s a good fit, a great mesh, and Adam is so happy that Matt is back in the field with them. Matt seems happier too. 

They take more jobs, do more heists, get more money. Joel handles their correspondences, their meetings, their deals, until there’s one that he says requires all of them being present.

Adam isn't sure at what point into the journey he decides that if James dares to sing ‘Wheels On the Bus’ one more time, he's going to punch him. There’s things they need when heading to a deal and things they don’t. Adam is wondering if he can just move James to the second list permanently. All may be forgiven but that does not - by any means - stop James being an asshole. Elyse is either asleep or ignoring him and Adam wishes he could do either. He just stares out of the window and really begins to wonder if being immortal is worth this. Maybe this is hell, just hearing James sing this stupid song over and over and he does not need to know about the wheels on the bus anymore _please._

“James, you know I love you, right?” Bruce calls over the noise. James turns back, an adoring smile across his face and those blue eyes looking far, far too blue, it’s completely unfair. He even rests his head on his crossed arms and Adam swears he bats his eyelids. Is it possible to get a ‘my boyfriend is too cute order’ because Adam needs one.

“Yes Brucie, I do!” James says back, tilting his head innocently. 

“Well then shut the fuck up with that stupid fucking song.” Adam could hug Bruce, actually would if he weren’t quite so terrified of Joel’s driving. Which was a mistake. A big mistake, the  _ biggest  _ mistake. He may be the only one of them who’s driven a bus but it doesn’t make him good at it. Adam probably should have realised this before they let Joel drive the bus. He can’t drive anything else, that should’ve been their biggest hint but  _ no we’ll let him drive a bus! _

“Bruce, you love my singing!” James protests and Bruce doesn’t even bother with a response, chooses instead to glare at James until he pouts and sits back properly in his seat. Just in time for the bus to jolt again. Adam peeks around the back of his chair, to look at the others. Matt and Sean are asleep next to each other. They lean against one another, small smiles across both of their faces. They seem completely unfazed at the sudden bumps and twists - just sleeping peacefully. When Adam looks, actually looks, he realises their hands are entwined between them and he can’t help his smile. They’re going to have to talk about Matt soon, Adam knows it. But that’s a worry for later. 

At the very back of the bus, Lawrence lies across the seats, laptop on his chest and his other screens all carefully situated around him. It's just a precaution, and one Adam hopes they won't have to use. Sean is staying with him and therefore Elyse too because she refuses to leave the two of them alone unprotected. Adam is completely confident Lawrence can protect them both but he doesn't dare tell Elyse that. He'll feel comfortable with the knowledge she's there too. Even if just for the knowledge Sean has somebody to fall back on if anything happens. 

The bus comes to a shaky stop. An incredibly shaky stop that almost forces most of them out their seats. So much so, that’s there’s two simultaneous cries, and when Adam stands to look over his seat, he sees both Sean and Matt fell over. Matt is standing, holding onto the seat, and he uses a hand (the one he was holding) to pull Sean up. Sean stumbles, falls right into him, and Sean giggles and Matt smiles. Before any words can be exchanged, Joel steps out of the cabin, yawning and stretching his arms up high above him. The two part, but Adam can see the blush spread across Matt’s cheeks and neck.

“We’re around the corner, so jazz up and get ready to move.” Joel claps his hands together, grinning wide at them. Bruce levels him with a flat stare.

“We’re a block away Joel. I said a block away,” He reminds him.

“We’re _ a block away _ , so jazz up and get ready to move.” Joel has more intent in his voice as he repeats the words. Elyse scoffs, standing from her seat and sliding on a bulletproof vest. James watches her, raises his eyebrows.

“You’re sitting in the bus.” He points out.

Elyse simply grins at him, “Safety first!” She turns around and holds one out to Sean. He takes his and she picks another up, throws it at Lawrence instead. It’s worth it to watch Lawrence jump, barely managing to hold the laptop up as he falls off the seats. Her only reaction is a triumphant smile and wave. Lawrence knows better than to even try and comment. Adam begrudgingly takes his, and there’s no talking as they all put them on, maybe not as carefully as they should. There’s still marks from bullets on James’. He supposes you reach a certain point with immortality where you stop caring. It’s an utterly bizarre idea, being comfortable with dying. He’ll get there.

Then there’s the kissing ritual which takes far too long. Matt watches them all exchange the small kisses and hugs with what still seems like curiosity. But then Elyse pulls him over, plants a joking kiss into his hair. Matt blushes, and Adam really does wonder. After that though, it’s out of the bus and into job mode. The route to the warehouses is short and they stay bunched up. All of them are fully aware of their surroundings - ready for any sign of an ambush. Except, Adam notices, Matt.

He glances around, tucked more into his hoodie than usual. Wide eyes take in what’s around them, far too often lingering on something for a few seconds too long. Adam doesn’t know whether to try and comfort him or simply observe. As they approach the meeting point itself, something seems to spook Matt. He stops in place, and at the back of the group it isn’t that noticed. Adam halts his steps, reaches out to take Matt’s arm. He tilts his head openly for Matt but Matt just responds with a headshake. Adam tries not to let his disappointment show, just slides his hand down into Matt’s. Matt always takes pleasure in the small things

Before the entrance to the enclosed car park Joel makes sure his hair is in place once more before he levels himself. Shoulders square, chin tilted slightly up, eyes sharp and Adam has no doubt his wit is also. The others all go through their own mental preparation, and Adam has to let go of Matt’s hand with one final squeeze. He tries to smile as a comfort but Matt still seems panicked, there’s a gang symbol painted on the wall and he doesn’t seem to take his eyes off it. Adam is worried, as an understatement.

“Hey,” Adam gets Matt’s attention and Matt jumps, “we can take you back if you need to.” Matt smiles at Adam, seems to be legitimately considering it for a few moments before shaking his head. Adam lets it go. He doesn't have time to comment on it anyway because Joel cues the gesture to walk in. He takes a lingering glance at Matt as they walk, still.

Members of the gang are waiting inside. Most are sat around the car park, on cars or benches. There's a group in the center, clearly waiting for them. Adam notices how Matt ducks behind him and Adam tries to fluff himself out, seem bigger to protect him. There's little he can do to hide Matt from the stares of the gang though. They're everywhere, like ants, the longer you look the more you see. Every single one stares at their group. Hell, even Adam's unnerved. It feels like a setup - they are hideously outnumbered - yet something just makes the situation feel, calculated. Adam can't place it to any single one thing. It's accumulated across it all.

They stop in front of the group, Joel steps forwards ready to start. Their spokesperson does the same. 

“So, we’re meeting in person, care to explain the details now?” Joel asks. Adam knows that the microphone hidden by his clothes will hopefully be transmitting back to Lawrence. He doesn't want to need him but it's certainly nicer having him. He doesn't know how Joel ever did meetings alone. He's unnerved  _ now _ and he's in a group. The idea of being alone with eyes watching his every move, having to keep up a false personality, atmosphere… No.

“We thought we'd simply tell you we’re claiming what belongs to us.” The spokesperson shrugs. Adam sees Joel narrow his eyes, his act slipping and if there wasn't enough hints that something is wrong then that's just the bow on the package. Bruce steps up to the front, beside Joel, and his hand is resting over his gun cautiously. It doesn't even seem to have an effect on the spokesperson and Adam knows they're outnumbered if a firefight goes down. They're immortal not invincible, worry settles in his stomach. 

“We have nothing of yours?” Bruce states, picking up where Joel left off. Adam knows Joel is glad for the recovery even if he doesn't show it. The spokesperson laughs, and it's joyful rather than necessarily  _ evil.  _

He points at the floor in front of him, “Immortal, down.” Adam is so taken aback that he doesn't react in time to grab Matt. None of the others notice until Matt is in front of them. He drops straight to his knees, head tilted down and arms crossed behind his back. He's the sight of passivity and Adam may have seen it before in Sean but it still makes his breath catch in his chest because this isn't Sean. This is Matt and oh God  _ no. _ Thankfully, Joel is attentive enough to hold his arm carefully out in front of Bruce and James before they step into action. Adam knows they're all racing to think of something to say. He is too, wishing to save the situation but Matt is on his knees in front of the enemy and his brain can't focus on anything else. They've already lost control of the situation and yet it's more dire than they could have imagined.  

“Matt isn't your’s.” Joel says forcefully. 

“I mean, we have the paperwork that proves otherwise.” The spokesperson gestures forward and one of the gang members walks up, places a hefty amount of paperwork into Joel’s hands. Adam can tell it's a photocopy, they are unfortunately more intelligent than your movie criminals. Joel flicks through it, scowling openly at the paper. When he looks up he seems to have dropped any kind of act. This is Joel now, and Joel is pissed.

“Human trafficking is illegal,” He says, passing the papers back to Bruce. Adam briefly watches Bruce’s face darken but the focus is still in front of him.

“So is being a gang and yet here you are.” The spokesperson points out. Joel rolls his eyes dramatically (a sight Adam still marvels over) and steps forward. The spokesperson tuts, and with the quickest of movements Matt is forced to the side by the force of the guy’s foot. Adam is too shocked to notice the others all tense, ready to move, to fight, at a moment’s notice. From this angle, Adam can see the pain that flashes across Matt’s face, before he straightens, crafts himself perfectly passive. He looks robotic, blank, and it isn’t the innocent, childlike blankness Adam is used to and he decides there and then he never wants to see it again. “We found the paperwork recently, do you know how much effort went into finding where they dumped this toy? Then we get there, and, you’ll never guess, it isn’t even there! No, instead it’s running around with another gang as if it has free will, isn’t just something to be played with and thrown away?” 

“Shut the fuck up, look at him he’s a fucking human being!” James shouts, his fists clenched and leaning heavily forwards. Adam can see the tension in his body, feels it too. The urge to punch, to hurt him because how  _ dare he.  _ Somehow, Matt's body language is more submissive at the running commentary and it pains Adam to just have to watch all the work they've put into healing unravel at the seams. And he doubts it's just Matt's healing too. 

The gunshot cuts off any trail of thought.

All four of them have their guns out in an instant but they don't fire, can't fire. Adam watches as Matt's body knits itself back together, the process still utterly disturbing to witness.

“I don't consider this human.” The spokesperson laughs, shooting Matt's body again. Adam hopes his trembling isn't noticeable, he keeps his gun close to his body to hide it. Matt's barely taking his breath back when the spokesperson giggles gleefully, “Come on, immortal, heel.” And Matt climbs back on his knees, reassumes his position. “It's already trained for this, don't you see? You're destroying so much effort that my ancestors put into it.” Adam sees James bristle, can see the fury in all of their eyes. Then, the spokesperson shoots Matt again and Adam hates to admit that he jumped. He just, keeps  _ going,  _ shoots and shoots until the gun clicks, out of ammo. Then he sighs, rolls his shoulders casually as they all watch in a furious horror.

“How- You can't,” James fumbles and he's out, all three of them know it, prepare to pick up for him. The spokesperson shakes his head, kneels down, to Matt's level. With one hand, he cups Matt's face, and the other drops the gun to circle Matt's throat. Matt takes a short breath that's cut off by the hand’s constriction.

“You see, if anything, it owes us ‘cause we got it out of sex work in the end.” Joel completely stills, eyes wide, and Adam can feel all their worlds, their perspectives, come to a stalling halt. “I'm not sure if any of my ancestors didn't use him for that though. Twenty years is a long time for those  _ accidents  _ to happen. And you know, they certainly still could.” Adam decides, then and there, he's going to be an idiot. It's a talent. The spokesperson pushes Matt onto his back, and Matt simply takes it, goes in spite of the hands now encircling his throat and the ragged breaths he can barely manage. Joel seems to have gone completely out of it and Adam is fucking scared for him, James seems to be shocked but he's still alert and so is Bruce.

“Sorry, Elyse.” Adam whispers, because she's going to be pissed and because there's no better cue for ‘I am about to do some dumb fucking  _ shit’  _ than an apology. In his brief moment of observation he notes the car closest to them, only a tiny bit to the side, he tries to note as many clumps of the gang members as possible and hey, character development. He's actually thinking before doing something stupid. Take that. 

Then, before the others quite realise something is about to happen, he takes a deep breath, levels his gun, and shoots. The spokesperson falls back, and Adam doesn’t have the time to watch because then he's running, pulling the others with him as best he can. There's only three at the car and he's able to take them out. A bullet hits Adam square in the back, and Adam loses whatever air he had in him, falls to the ground. But, if there's anything that focuses James: it's action - he reaches down, tugs Adam back up to his feet and helps him until he's running himself again. Bruce opens the car door, herds each of them into it. It isn't ideal but it's the only cover they  _ have  _ and they need to make it work. They split, one of them takes one side, ducking up or even blindly firing because holy shit there's so many of them.

“I'd like to congratulate Adam for choosing to get killed by Elyse later, a true brave move!” James shouts to be heard above the gunfire. He yelps a moment later, Adam feels blood splatter onto him and he cringes. 

“James, there's better times to sass!” Bruce exclaims the moment James coughs himself back to life. Adam doesn't hear the reply, an idea coming to his head that he desperately needs to expand on.

“Anyone got a smoke grenade?” He asks the group, voice surprisingly calm even to him. 

“Here.” James places one in his hand.

“I'm assuming this means you have a plan, Adam?” Bruce asks. 

“Well so far it's just grenade so if anyone has a way to expand that I'd appreciate it.” Adam shrugs. There's no talking for a few more seconds, just the ever loud gunfire as each of them focus. Joel is obviously struggling, and Adam needs him off the field, needs him with Elyse and Spoole because if anybody knows how to help someone it's those two. How much of that would Elyse have heard, even Lawrence? Oh god, Sean, they're going to be devastated-

“Grenade and either we drive this car or we just run.” Bruce suggests. 

“Brilliant plan, Bruce! Drive towards certain death or run out into it! Brilliant!” James sounds so completely done with the world he might beat Adam's resting face. 

Bruce growls, “Any better ideas?”

“No of course not!” Adam can see Bruce resisting the temptation to hit James. It's, really not needed right now.

“Matt-” Joel’s voice surprises them all, and it seems to surprise him as well but he still tries to finish the thought, “-Matt, we can't, we can't  _ leave him. _ ” Then he pauses, shuts his eyes, “Please.” Adam makes a mental note that he needs to hug Joel the instant they are safe because oh god the urge is so strong even now. Both Bruce and James’ faces soften and Adam is glad to feel that tension leak from the air. 

“Don't worry, Joel. We will.” Adam reaches over to gently rub Joel’s arm. “Once we drop the grenade I'll go out to get Matt, how far will the grenade cover?”

“Pretty far, I'd say a good half of the parking lot where we are. We can try and throw it slightly in his direction though.” James offers. Adam nods.

“Let's go then.” He holds the grenade up, and then with the quickest throw he can manage, launches it a bit from the car. The gang members around it stumble away, afraid of the explosion. Makes his job easier. 

The moment the explosion happens he's out if the car. He has little care about the shrapnel, just runs out and follows his steps. He hears the car start up behind him. He should have discussed what they’re planning to do. Too late, his focus is Matt. The smoke makes it hard to see, burns his eyes and it's hard to breath. Somebody stumbles where he can see them, and it's barely a second before Adam's shot them. None of these guys are exactly in his good books. But the smoke makes it hard to spot Matt, he has to make out shadows and try and head towards them. The rumble of the car engine is nice, different to the constant gunfire and sounds of death. Adam focuses on that as he searches. And his search proves fruitful when in the distance he sees a crouched silhouette.

Matt is,

Matt is  _ not good.  _

He hasn't moved from his submission, even got back on his knees, and Adam wonders really if Matt is still in there. His eyes just blink at the distance. There's no recognition of Adam even when he kneels in front of Matt, rests a gentle hand on his cheek. He can already see the bruises around Matt's neck, and blood is splattered across Matt like some awful abstract art. Adam has no doubt that Matt's knees will be decorated in the same bruises and if the guy's body weren't behind him he'd kill the guy himself. His only satisfaction is that he already has. 

“Matt?” There's no response, nothing. “Matt, Matt  _ please. _ ” There's absolutely nothing. He just blinks, and Adam feels so sick at the sight. He wants to throw his arms around him but he can't do that to Matt, he can't. “Matt we need to go, can you please follow me, I'll keep you safe I promise.” Adam wonders how Matt could understand his words if Adam can't even understand the mess of syllables coming out of his mouth. 

There's the buzz of a bullet far too close to them and Adam spins, shoots the guy until he knows there's no chance of him interrupting them again. But, Matt doesn't react. Doesn't react to Adam, the noise, Adam's fucking  _ begging  _ for Matt just to  _ please move.  _ When Adam tries to pull Matt he barely moves, just follows and Adam can't get him safely through a firefight like that. And he knows it might just be his imagination but he swears the smoke is starting to clear. And Adam, King of ‘ideas that will later bite him up the ass’ gets an idea that makes him feel guilty just thinking about it but seems to be the only way - the only possibility of actually working.

“Immortal, follow.” And Matt finally moves and Adam almost cries. Adam almost cries from guilt and complete loss alone. He's a grown man not a teenager and it takes a moment for him to remember that he should be moving. 

The car is nearby and Matt stays almost plastered to Adam's back. Adam can't even bring himself to believe it's because  _ Matt _ is actually in there. Just thinks in Matt's simple reasoning, that's where it's safest. Adam makes sure Matt is in the car first, placing the two of them into the back seats. Bruce turns to him in an instant, James is driving (well, currently reversing at about the speed you'd normally drive down a small suburban road.)

“Took your time, what else did you do, skip through the fields-” Bruce finally looks properly at the two “-Oh god, Adam, what happened?”

“It's-” Adam's voice breaks, the traitor, “-nothing. Really.” Bruce levels him with a look and he looks angry and oh, Adam's actually crying now. Okay that's happening thanks body.

“Yeah fucking right it's nothing.” Bruce stares right into Adam's very soul. “The fuck happened, Kovic?”

It takes a lot longer than Adam wants to think to answer (or maybe not as long, he can't tell), “Matt's fucking gone.” He sucks in a breath, “I fucking, he wouldn't respond to his own fucking name, not me, nothing he-” Another breath, “I had to fucking order him Bruce, I had to drop to their fucking level and fucking order him like a dog because he wouldn't,” And Adam finally breaks off, buries his face in his hands. Bruce glances at Matt. Matt doesn't look back. He just sits; a marionette doll with nobody pulling the strings. Joel is aware enough to notice Adam's discomfort, able to reach around and gently rub Adam's arm. Matt blocks the way for an actual embrace. What a shitty fucking metaphor.

Adam really didn't think this was how the day would go.

“Right, let’s get out.” Bruce instructs, him and James the most still intact. Adam listens to them, it's always a marvel to see them actually in action together. They make a dynamic pair.

“Already on it, throw this grenade at the entrance for me-” James passes the grenade to Bruce. He takes it, places it in his lap with barely any thought. “-and it should get them off our tail.” There's a loud bang, and four of the people in the car jump. “That was a tire, shit.” Bruce pauses his firing to give James a reassuring smile, before immediately returning to it. Adam can't begin to imagine the affect they must be having on this gang, nevermind the lasting one. Whatever, they deserve it. Karma. 

There's another surprise as they reach the entrance. The only positive one they've had all day. Bruce throws the grenade, they reverse, and as they get past the exit, there's an explosion and it crashes down behind them. They rush out of the car, despite absent and panicked minds and terrified hearts. As the dust clears, Elyse stands there. Adam may compare her to an angel far too often but God, she looks like one. She doesn't speak, and her face just looks sad. But she tilts her head, motions them all after her. They go.

Being in the bus is tense. Lawrence and Sean turn when they see them, and Adam can see the tears in Sean’s eyes. Their gazes meet, and Sean breaks it away, as if he's disgusted to even see him. Bile rises in the back of his throat because  _ fuck. _ He made  _ Sean _ look at him like that. He'd probably look at himself the same way if he could. Elyse doesn't seem to know who to try and comfort first. She seems so lost in this situation. They all do. 

It's Sean who moves first, walking up to Matt and his eyes look so, so hopeful and so, so  _ scared.  _ Adam feels his heart break in that moment, knowing what's about to happen. Sean takes Matt's hands into his but there's still fucking nothing.

“Matt?” He whispers, voice so small, “Matt  _ please  _ you can't- you c _ an't please no. _ ” And then he collapses, clutching at Matt's hoodie and sobbing into his chest. Adam doesn't know what worse, Sean’s heartbroken wailing or Matt not reacting. But somehow, it seems like a plan has taken place. James is the one to gently take Sean, whereas Bruce walks up to Matt. Lawrence enters the driver’s seat, anxious to start moving. Elyse takes Joel’s hands. She's whispering, something Adam can't make out. He thinks it's French. He remembers the history between the two, wonders what hasn't been said. He, it seems to be a trigger. A trigger regarding- Adam doesn't want to think about that. Then each of the pairs split off into different parts of the bus. And Adam's left alone. 

It doesn't take much to work out why. 

Adam doesn’t see any of them for the next two days. 

It's not much of a surprise, not really. Maybe it doesn't help that he booked a motel room away from the others. He's, he's  _ intruding.  _ They're all recovering, healing from this and Adam doesn't need to be disrupt that. Everything has lurched up, doubts without the normal reassurances and it doesn't take much to be engulfed in them. Adam also doesn't leave the room. Sleeps in sheets that don't even have a duvet in, probably haven't been washed in weeks. Honestly, the second day the bedbug bites come out and he still can't bring himself to care. They itch like hell but he doesn't deserve any better. He just wakes himself up enough to get a drink, buy a protein bar from the gas station, and collapse back into bedbug infested sheets. 

Sean hates him. 

And if Sean hates him he has no doubts the others do too. They all know what he did. They all have to deal with that aftermath and he hopes they're okay. He wants nothing more than that - would give the world as long as they're okay. They all deserve so much more than him and immortality has already lost its prettiness if the people he wanted to spend it with don't want him. They can do so,  _ so  _ much better than an idiot who can't even-

Adam hates himself.

That's all there is to it, isn't it?

And he feels pathetic for even that. How fucking  _ bizarre  _ is it to feel you don't even deserve to hate yourself? He wants to disappear. Wants to leave, run far, far away because he's ruined his once upon a time. He's the villain in all of their fairytales.

It's day three, and the door opens. 

Adam doesn’t bother looking up, just stares at the ceiling because fuck it, kill him. At least he'll feel something other than self-loathing that way. Footsteps trail into the room and then the bed bounces besides him. The body beside him is familiar, and he wonders if she's here to give the official ‘fuck off and leave you sad loser’.

“You know I could feel your teenage angst from outside?” Elyse asks, and she's staring up at the ceiling as well. Adam huffs a barely attempted laugh.

“You know there's bedbugs?” He replies and Elyse squeals, almost falls off the bed in her hurry to get off it. She tries to tug Adam with her, and begrudgingly he goes because Elyse is  _ persistent  _ in all the best ways.

“Adam fucking Kovic why the fuck are you sleeping in a bed with bedbugs?!” She exclaims, and Adam is finally forced to look at her. She's wearing a leather jacket, hair awkwardly flattened and simultaneously wild and she must have taken Joel’s motorbike again. At least Adam knows nobody will follow her. There are bags under her eyes, the usual adventurous shine isn't there. It scares Adam.

“I thought we were just stating things that are obvious?” Adam shrugs and Elyse seems to struggle to think of words to reply. Instead she hits Adam's arm and then pauses as she looks at him.

“Holy shit you haven't even changed. You are wearing the same clothes- there's bites everywhere I'm setting these clothes on fire, Adam. Fire. What the fuck.” She tries to lift the shirt off but Adam stops her, pushes the shirt down. She looks up at him, eyebrows raised. 

“I don't have a change of clothes.” Adam speaks slower that probably necessary. Her mouth forms an ‘o’ and then she's dragging him out of the room. “Elyse, what are you doing?” 

“I am taking you to my apartment.” Elyse tells him.

“You have an apartment?” Adam asks because oh, that's news to him. Elyse hums and nods, slaps some notes onto the front desk. It's night as they step out, the cool air hitting Adam harder than a train. Elyse turns to him at the first shiver. She redirects her route. “And where now?”

“To buy you some clothes you are going to die of hypothermia if you ride with me.” She explains. Adam notices how she hadn't mentioned any of the others, and suddenly it sets in that she's the only one who cares, has snuck out against their wishes to help him and he stops on the pavement. “Adam?”

“You, you should be with the others they, I don't deserve-” She holds a finger up to his lips, hushes him. Adam quiets. 

“They're all asleep.” It's not really a comfort, the fact she actually has sneaked out to see him. “And they've been worried sick. Joel actually has worried himself sick-” She breaks herself off and shakes her head, “This is about you, though. I want to make sure you're okay. And apparently I was right to have worried.” 

“You shouldn't be.” Adam is far too quick to say it. Elyse spins on him in an instant. 

“Don't you dare think like that. I will fucking be the worried girlfriend just  _ watch me. _ ” She scolds, pointing up at him. Adam actually has to lean back from her finger. 

“The others-” 

She cuts him off, “I'll talk about that when we get back.”

“Sean hates me.” Adam finally says, after a few beats in which they start walking again. Elyse sighs at that. 

“Yeah, he does.” And Adam didn't expect that. For her to just, confirm it like that? Adam doesn't know what he expected though. “He, we all know he's been through some shit and, we never fully knew Matt had been through something similar and he's taken it really bad. I think he always knew but -” She shakes her head sadly, “- that never stops it from hurting.”

“I still, did it though. Matt didn't, I betrayed him in so many ways.” Elyse smiles in a quiet, subdued way.

“Adam, I wouldn't have known what to do.” She admits. Adam turns to look at her, completely shocked because-

“You, you always know what to do.” He whispers. Elyse laughs at that, shaking her head with a genuine wide smile. 

“Nope.” She says, simple as that. “Adam, you probably made a better choice than I would. ‘Cause you know what I'd do? I'd panic, I probably wouldn't have gotten myself out that situation -  never mind a zombie Matt.” The words, they don't make it all okay. But they help in an odd way Adam can't quite place. So he falls into silence, resting on Elyse’s side with her arm around him. Occasionally a car rushes past but besides that, it's all quiet. Simply the sound of their soft breathing against the night.

 

“Elyse, Elyse  _ no. _ ” Adam has to say for probably the fifth time. Elyse waves the wooly jumper with a grin. It's bright red, and looks more like a Christmas sweater without the Christmas. Adam would argue she has a radar for everything Adam wouldn't wear.

“Ah, come on it'll be cute!” She protests. Adam places his hand on her face, pushes her back off her tiptoes. 

“No.” He says and she finally relents. Adam continues searching through the jackets he's found. Usually he'd just buy a hoodie. They're warm, comfortable and last a while but… He feels sick looking at them.

“Ding!” Elyse shouts again, holding up something new over a section of clothes. There's about a fifty percent chance at this point they're going to be kicked out of the store. Maybe higher, Adam doesn't know.

“Do I have to look or should I say no on impulse?” Adam asks. Elyse makes a noise that can be only described as ‘wounded’. 

“After all my effort to find something that isn't a jumper!” She exclaims, and Adam decides to actually look this time. It's a leather jacket. He isn't sure what he expected. She grins, adds, “See we can match!” Adam raises an eyebrow before sighing.

“Sure, we can match.” He finally shrugs. Elyse beams at him.

“Perfect.” She decides with a nod, “Right I'm going to pay I already have the other clothes picked out no need to thank me.” And then she's gone, rushing off towards the till. It takes Adam a moment to process that and then he's stumbling after her.

“Elyse what does that mean? Elyse!” He groans, picking up pace as she does.

“It's one now, ‘Lyse.” Adam sighs, sitting back on the dirt. She nods, kicking Adam's old clothes properly into her pile. She observes it and grins to herself. Adam is slightly concerned. That is a far too happy smile for someone about to set clothes on fire. Also a far too happy smile for this early in the morning. “Are you sure none of the others will be concerned?” She shakes her head, lights a match and throws it into the clothes. Adam jumps back, shocked as it bursts straight up into flames. They reach barely into the sky, the warmth almost immediate. It’s even nicer in the new clothes, how warm they are on his body. Elyse’s face lights up amber, the fire reflecting in her eyes. She looks up at Adam, over the flame, and motions for him to join her. The two sit on the floor beside the flames on the side of the mountain. Elyse lets her head fall onto Adam’s shoulder.

“You might as well ask about the others now, I want you in bed once I get you back.” She says. Adam laughs. It’s short, surprised, but it’s a laugh.

“Can I just get a general recap?” He asks. Elyse nods, takes a second to think everything through.

“Matt still isn’t responding to us, it’s getting scary now. It was already scary but, you know.” She shakes her head, “Sean’s a mess, won’t leave Matt’s side at the moment. Found out he was closely related to Matt’s death as Jesus, that boy is amazing. Bruce is being a group dad, which mostly involves watching James and Lawrence for me. Lawrence keeps trying to drink himself dead and James is being a reckless idiot. So, thank God for Bruce. I’ve mostly been trying to watch Joel, he’s so sick, Adam. But it’s from worry - I don’t, I can’t fix that? I’m trying to do what I can but that whole thing with Matt.” She shivers, “We found out he was in that lake for over a century, Adam. That’s what the paperwork said.” And God, if that news doesn’t hit Adam like a train because he, he can’t even understand that - begin to - but so much about Matt suddenly makes sense, ”He was with that gang for almost twenty years too and I just, I can’t believe-” And she breaks off then, and Adam pulls her into his side because she’s crying so openly with him. The sky above them is dark, the stars showing without the city’s lights to replace them and the fire reaches, reaches but will never quite make it to join them. 

“You and Joel,” Adam whispers, and he hopes he doesn’t overstep any boundaries, “what happened with you two?” Elyse is still crying and it takes a while for her to answer, he isn’t sure if she’s thinking or if her mind is just such a mess that she has to sort it out. Maybe both.

“I, we met in France really. The two of us were great together, God, Adam, you would’ve loved him back then. He was so in his element, we’d swap clothes, do each other’s jobs. He used to be an apprentice, at a bakery. And then one day he just, he fucking left. And I didn’t see him again. I didn’t see him again until now and Adam, he’s changed so much and he’s so, so much better than he was back then and I love him, I love him so much Adam.” And she’s crying again, wiping her face with the back of her sleeve, “This is pathetic isn’t it? I should hate him or something, he fucking  _ left me  _ but, I can’t do that to him. He’s been through so much, Adam, so fucking much. And I fucking, I fell into a bad group. I think we all have at some point and you know what finally got me out of it? The thought that I, Joel would be so disappointed in me for being like him. And he’ll never know that, he helped me quit taking drugs, for fuck’s sake - so don’t you dare tell him - but he got me through so fucking much and I can’t, I can’t hate him. And then I met James and James was like, the final step. He was such a help, it’s unbelievable. I no longer had Joel as my only reason to live I had him too, somebody I could touch and I could hold and-” She breaks off, choking on her words, her emotion that seems to threaten to tear her apart, “I just want it all to be okay again. That’s all I want.”

“Elyse,” Adam whispers because there isn’t anything else he can think to say, to comfort this beautiful woman in his arms, who is so good, so,  _ so  _ good and yet wouldn’t believe it if you wrote it across the sky. This beautiful woman who cries because she can’t fix a problem she didn’t cause. He just holds her, holds her as tight as he can, until the fire dwindles to nothing and they go to her apartment. And he holds her then, stays with her until one of the guys call her and she’s finally forced to leave, to put her brave face back on and face a world that’s been too cruel to someone as pure as she is. And the moment the door shuts, he wishes he could hold her some more.

Adam still doesn’t go back home. 

Elyse’s apartment is nice but now he’s had that taste, that reminder of what it’s like with them all, he misses it. He’s lonely. He just wanders between the bed, the sofa, the kitchen, the bathroom. A ghost without aim. Elyse visits when she can, usually late at night when the others have all fallen asleep. Joel’s been getting slightly better since she told him Adam’s safe and Adam briefly remembers the last time he didn’t come back home and then immediately doesn’t. There’s things he really doesn’t need right now. Emotions shouldn’t be on that list but as he lies on the sofa, dozing away at only midday - they’re pretty high up there.

The door opens, Elyse calls out a greeting from the hallway. Adam forces himself slightly more awake. He tries to roll himself up slightly to look at her but can’t quite make the effort. He’s simply too drowsy. But then he hears a second pair of footsteps and he doesn’t think he’s jumped from half asleep to fully alert faster (he has jumped from asleep to fully alert but, that’s a different deal. Screams are hard to ignore.) Behind Elyse, there’s a small body that he can’t mistake. A small body that looks incredibly nervous and is trying to hide behind a cap.

“I brought a guest, as you can see.” She smiles at Adam, then smiles down at Sean, kissing the bill of his hat. Sean waves as at Adam, clearly too nervous to actually greet him. Adam is confused to why he’s here, because out of all them them, the only person he would have expected less than Sean is Matt. That doesn’t really prove much. “And I’m going to make us all drinks.” And that’s when Adam realises that oh she has definitely planned this. She guides to Sean, drops him on top of Adam and then she’s gone, the two staring at each other like deer in headlights. Neither knows what to say, just blink at each other. It’s completely still.

Then Sean blurts out, “I’m so sorry.” And Adam is surprised.

“What?” He asks, but Sean doesn’t even seem to notice, is already caught up in his own words.

“You didn’t, don’t, deserve my anger directed at you. That’s, it shouldn't be your problem.” Sean admits, tripping and tumbling over the words from his own mouth. Adam doesn’t know how to respond, sits with his mouth open and arms barely managing to hold himself up. He can see the second that Sean takes it badly, that he panics and Adam still doesn’t know what to do, “I’m so sorry, I’ve messed this all up, I pushed you away I’m so sorry oh no-”

“Sean,” Adam says, and his mouth snaps shut but Adam wasn’t sure where he planned to go after that really. He decides to just, go with it, with whatever happens, “It’s, it’s okay. I promise. I feel awful for doing it too but-” He breaks off for just a second, “-I didn’t know  _ what  _ to do Sean, I didn’t  _ know. _ ” And Adam breaks off that time because he feels like if he doesn’t he’s going to cry and then he realises he is already  _ is.  _ Sean is too, and that’s when Elyse chooses to walk back in, drinks gathered up in her arms. She sets them on the table and sits along with them on the sofa. In the middle, and she pulls both of her boys into her arms and cuddles them tight. It’s strange now, being the one held after holding a shaking Elyse only days ago. 

“I’m so proud of you two, so proud of you.” She whispers to them, once they’ve quietened down enough that she can. Maybe she was whispering before, Adam wouldn’t know. “Sean, what’s the last thing we want to say?” She prompts him, oh so gently. A teacher with a toddler and it’s adorable and so characteristically  _ her.  _

“Adam we,” He pauses, sniffles, “We want you to come home.” And Adam cries again.

Coming back to the apartment is, well, it’s terrifying. Adam doesn’t know what to expect. Shouting, screaming? Instead he’s almost knocked over by an overexcited James, who’s holding him, kissing him anywhere he can find. The other’s come running, and Elyse is laughing - probably her first laugh in days - at the sight. She sneaks away, and Adam notices the distinct lack of Joel too, but right now he’s here, and everything’s warm. He feels, actually kinda happy. James pulls him back, holding his shoulders and he can see the barely there tears gathered in his eyes. Bruce is peering over his shoulder, Lawrence too, and Sean stands behind Adam. There’s smiles on all their faces. 

“I was so worried, fuck, you don’t understand.” James whispers, before he buries his head into Adam’s hair. But, in an odd way, Adam can. Not fully, no. But he can. 

“I’m here, I promise I’m here.” Adam whispers back because James deserves that, deserves to know that. James squeezes tighter before letting go fully, letting the others take his place. It takes a while for them all to have their hug, all of them to confirm he’s still alive (because the last time he was gone he wasn’t, and it’s still an odd feeling.) 

“Adam!” A voice calls, behind them all, and Adam smiles at the sight of Joel on Elyse’s back (she is small and she is terrifying) and he still doesn’t look perfect, there’s no gel in his hair, his skin lacks it’s usual slight tan, but he’s there and he’s smiling. Adam smiles back. And of course, of course, there’s  _ Matt.  _

He’s, fiddling. Which Adam supposes is an improvement. He’s silently trying to stack whatever he can find on the coffee table. There seems to be a mug, two rubbers, some pencils and he seems to be attempting to top it off with a book. It’s Shakespeare. Oh. Elyse follows his eyes and Adam knows the others do too, but all he sees is her sad smile as she looks at him. God, she loves him so much and God, Adam fucked up. 

“Hey, Matt, could you come over here, please?” Elyse calls and Adam’s surprised to see Matt get up, walk over to the group and stand at Elyse’s side. Elyse still looks sad though, and Adam knows that she doesn’t need to phrase it as a question, and he knows that she needs to do it for herself. “Hey, honey.” She smiles at Matt and he blinks at her, expression unchanging. Then she finally leads them to the sofa, sits them all down and they fall back into routine, talking about random things. Matt doesn’t talk, except for the rare occasions Bruce throws him a question (and maybe not much has changed there but there’s normally something, expressions movement) and it still feels like he’s absent but, they’re together again. It’s good enough for now. 

Elyse catches him, as they all head off to bed. She appears at Adam’s side as he’s about to head back into the living room to play games until he passes out.

“He’s better,” She tells him, glancing in the bedroom where she’s left Matt, “in a way.”

“He responded to his name.” Adam says and she laughs, tilting her head down to the ground.

“I’m not sure if it’s his name or the order but, it gets his attention now, at least.” She shrugs, “He’s doing stuff by himself too, reading and fiddling. Never stuff that means he has to move, be noticed or anything. I think it’s because he’s kind of, lost again.” She shakes her head sighing, “He doesn’t know what to do without orders to occupy himself with, I'm guessing.”

“At least he’s doing it, though.” Adam says, and Elyse laughs.

“Yeah, of course.” She nods, “Try to sleep tonight?”

Adam smiles at her, “Promise I will.”

“Good,” she reaches up and kisses him, “Sweet dreams, baby boy.”

“The same to you.” Adam kisses her back. She steps back, looks into his eyes.

“I’m glad you’re home,” She finally says, just as Adam was wondering if he’d done something wrong in the time she was staring.

“I’m glad too.” He answers and she gives him one final smile and then she heads off, the door closing lightly behind her.

It’s another two days before anything interesting happens. Two days of trying, of fleeting touches and smiles and  _ feelings  _ and nobody really knows what they’re meant to be doing - not at all - but it’s okay. For now, they’re okay. Adam’s sat at the table in the kitchen, absently listening to Sean nattering in one of the other rooms. He’s talking to Matt. He normally does, even if Matt never replies. Adam appreciates Sean doing it, because he knows he couldn’t bear to. Not after what he did. 

“And I don’t, I don’t remember most of it but it’s still one of my favourite languages, you know?” Adam can’t even remember what he’s been talking about this time, just half listens to Sean’s ever enthusiastic voice and his infinite wisdom. “Um, I think I remember what you were called in it. Eashoa, right?” And there’s a pause, a little gasp and then another voice that Adam barely recognises in this new language. And then he gasps too, realizing that’s  _ Matt _ and he stands, rushes to where Elyse is in one of the bedrooms. He passes Lawrence on the way, who seems to sense his urgency and decide to follow with him. Adam then leads the two back to outside the kitchen, hidden just where they can’t be seen. The conversation is in full swing now, and it doesn’t even sound like words, really. Just sounds in a frantic stream. Elyse though, she’s listening intensely. 

“It’s Aramaic,” She tells them, turning briefly to the two. She listens more and she smiles, chokes out oh so slightly, “Sean is, he’s telling Matt he’s safe here. And Matt, Matt’s  _ responding. _ ” Both Lawrence and Adam move forward, hug her tightly as she listens, smiling so wide, with so much bundled up  _ pride  _ for her boys she’s threatening to explode. And  _ sure _ , they don’t understand it, but her choked laughter tells them all they need to know. She pulls at them both, pulls them to sit down at the table with a comment to be subtle (and an extra one teasing Adam because she knows what happened last time he tried.) And eventually, when Sean and Matt emerge from the kitchen, the two with hands entwined, it’s an honestly perfect sight. Sean is smiling, and Matt is hiding slightly behind Sean’s shoulder Elyse looks up at the two immediately, offering a small greeting and then Sean turns to Matt.

“Hi.” Matt stutters it, ever so slightly, but it’s paired with a wave and then Elyse actually jumps over the table to hug the two. Adam has to cover his ears at her scream which soon has the others running in from where they’ve been in the house. James runs in with a gun at the ready and Joel tries to catch himself on the doorframe but falls onto Bruce anyway (Bruce who, thankfully, catches him. Though it would’ve been funny otherwise too, just ruined the moment.) James lowers his gun, looking very confused.

“I feel we’ve missed something here.” He says, staring blankly at the group gathered around the table. And  _ on  _ the table. That, that really can’t be comfortable holy shit. Elyse’s back shouldn’t bend like that.

“Not really.” Matt answers again, before any of them even think of answering and James drops his gun, races over too.

“That’s a lie! A big fat lie, Matty!” He mutters, pulling Matt into his chest and Matt laughs, pushing James’ arms apart so he can see through them. He’s grinning, freely, and Adam waves at him through the gap. Matt waves back as best as he can.

It’s good to have Matt back, so good to have Matt back. And Adam notices the little things. Sean holding his hand when they’re in the car. Bruce letting him pick the CD that they listen to even though he has the weirdest and most eclectic music taste ranging from woodwind orchestra to soft shoe. At one point he accidentally gives Bruce a heavy metal disk and ends up cowering next to Adam for the rest of the ride home. He does, however, hate gospel music and Adam can kind of give him that. Adam notices James and Elyse taking him out to get slushies at the gas station around the corner when it’s two in the morning, Joel trying to teach him how exactly you make meringue, Lawrence staying up way too late and trying to explain the internet to him. They’re all kind of unreasonably fucked.   

“I think we’re in love with Matt.” Bruce says it so nonchalantly and out of the blue that Adam has to go over it twice before he understands. He’s also really glad that Matt’s in bed right now because they definitely do not need to have this conversation around him.

“Speak for yourself, old man.” Elyse counters and she’s eating a sandwich despite it being one A.M..

“I’ve seen the way you look at him, Elyse.” Bruce shakes his head. “It’s exactly the way you looked at Sean when we first brought him home.” Elyse looks at him for a moment before taking another bite of her sandwich.

“Okay, then, maybe I do like him. Now what?” She asks.

“I-I like him.” Sean says, voice soft and he’s blushing and God, he’s adorable, even though Adam is pretty sure they all knew this already. You only had to watch them interacting for a couple of minutes and it’d become glaringly obvious that Sean was head over heels.

“Me too.” James chimes in. “He’s, well, he’s someone that I think we need.”

“Yeah.” Joel nods in agreement.

“He’s cute.” Lawrence supplies and it’s kind of helpful, but it’s also kind of not.

“What about you, Adam?” Bruce asks and then everyone is looking at him.

“Is it even a question?” Adam shrugs and so begins the quest to woo Matt Peake.

They step up their game, lingering touches and flirtatious remarks and jokes and Elyse is almost always touching Matt in some way or another and Joel starts inviting him out to lunch more, sometimes just them, sometimes the whole crew and they get weird looks from the wait staff when one of them orders for Matt. 

It is three weeks into their plan and it’s very obviously not working. If anything, Matt is growing more and more distant and it’s troubling, to say the least.

Joel makes the executive decision to just tell Matt when they’re eating dinner. Well, Joel made it so it isn’t exactly good, Joel’s a baker, not a damn chef, but it’s food and they’ve all had worse. At least, this is what they tell Joel. Spare the guy's feelings.

“So, Matt, we want to go out with you.” Joel says and Matt chokes on his hamburger. The others exchange glances around the table, looking at Joel with wide eyes. He speaks again when Matt has recovered. “We’ve been trying to seduce you, but obviously that’s not working, so what do you say? There won’t be any hard feelings if you say no, but I’m really hoping that you say yes.” The silence that stretches out is excruciating and Adam’s heart is hammering in his chest.

“No.” Matt says and his voice is so quiet and so full of hurt that Adam is taken aback. He pushes his chair away from the table and stands to leave. Lawrence reaches out, closes his hand around Matt’s wrist, trying to get him to stay. And it works, kind of, Matt freezes. “Please let go of me.” And he sounds frightened and Lawrence releases him like he’s been burned.

“Please sit down, Matt, let’s talk about this.” Bruce pleads and Matt, reluctantly, sits back down, hunching into himself, and Adam doesn’t realise that he’s crying until he swipes at his cheek.

“Why are you crying?” Sean’s voice is quiet and shaking, it’s almost always shaking. Matt sniffs.

“You don’t want me.” And his voice is just as quiet and just as shaky and he balls his hands into fists. “That’s just- Don’t joke about that. Don’t, don’t joke…” Elyse looks like she’s been stricken.

“We’re not joking, Matt.” She says, winding her hair around her index finger. “We’re not. We really do want to date you.”

“No. You don’t.” His voice is firmer now, but he won’t look up. “You don’t. I’m not- You deserve someone better. Someone better than me.”

“Matt, you were Jesus.” Lawrence points out. “How much better can we get?”

“Someone that hasn’t killed people.” Matt says, immediately.  “I’m- I’m- I spent years in a lake, I don’t know what half the stuff in the apartment is, I’m already, already fucking  _ tainted _ . I didn’t- They- It wasn’t my... You… You need someone better.”

“No, we don’t, Matt. The whole point is that we don’t need anyone, but we want you.” Adam chimes in and Matt glances up at him for a split second. “We want you, Matt. What do you say? At least give us a try?”

“Okay.” Matt swallows. “Okay.” Sean cheers and launches himself at Matt, hugging him and nearly knocking over his chair. 

After that, the dinners out with the whole crew are called date nights and they’re perfect and Adam has never wanted anything more than Matt pressed to his side in a candlelit restaurant with white tablecloths and crystal glasses.

They’re at their own table in their own apartment and they’re planning a heist. Elyse squeaks, barely stopping a rolling die before it falls to the ground. She peers at it.

“”Six.” She says and Bruce pumps his arm in the air.

“That means-” Lawrence scans the paper in his hand. “-rocket launchers for everybody.” James whoops and Adam groans.

“Why are we planning the heists based on chance?” Adam asks, he’s been getting more and more exasperated since the heist wear came up ‘swim suits’. “We are literally robbing a corner store, we don’t need rocket launchers.”

“But do we want them?” James asks, the nods. “Yes. Yes, the answer is yes, we want them.”

“This seems… Unwise.” Adam shakes his head. “I mean, I get that we can’t die, but c’mon. This just seems reckless. Really reckless. How is Bruce even supposed to get a cop car in the first place?”

“Look okay, you just worry about the eighteen sheep, Adam.” Bruce says, crossing his arms and looking pointedly at Adam. 

“Yeah, about that, what’s going to happen with the sheep? Do we just leave them in the streets? Are we going to kill them?” Adam questions and Sean nods in agreement.

“I.. I think there are some flaws in this plan.” Sean rolls the dice in his palm. “Like, major flaws type of flaws.”

“We’re literally doing this because I didn’t want to plan the heist this week and no one else volunteered.” Lawrence points out, looking up from his laptop. “So if anybody else has any ideas, I’d love to hear them.”

“I’ll do it.” Matt says and everyone turns to look at him. He’s balancing pairs of dice on top of each other in a little tower, leaning a bit precariously to the left.

“Wait, really?” Joel asks, eyebrows raised. “You’re sure?”

“I know the city. And… Robbery.” Matt bites his lip. “Can I?”

“Dude, yeah! Of course.” Elyse nods, enthusiastically. “You don’t have to ask for our permission to plan a heist, you just have to tell us what you’re doing. Let us in on your secrets, eh, Matty? Let us know what’s going on in your mind?”

“When do you want to do it, then?” James asks and he looks overly excited at the fact that Matt is contributing, actually contributing, and Adam can’t fault him for that, not really. Matt looks down for a few seconds.

“Tomorrow.” He determines and everyone kind of pauses.

“You sure?” Adam asks because he has to check again, just to make sure they’re not accidentally forcing him into something that he doesn’t want to do. Matt nods. 

“What’s the plan, then?” Bruce asks and Matt pauses for a second.

“Tomorrow.” He repeats, pushing himself away from the table. His tower wobbles, then falls, and he walks away.

“Well, we’re going into this one blind.” Joel says and Elyse nods.

“Not the first time, though.” She reminds him. “There was that time Bruce didn’t give us any plans until he was literally stuffing money down Joel’s shirt.”

“Yeah, I’m still bitter about that.” Joel huffs. “Stretched out a perfectly good shirt. Like, okay, you stretched it out with money, but you still stretched it out. That was one of my favourite shirts.”

“Joel, half of your wardrobe is clothes that are too loose.” Adam points out.

“But that’s for style, Adam. They’re made that way.” Joel shakes his head and Bruce groans.

“Look, I’m sorry, okay? But I bought you a new shirt, didn’t I?” Bruce asks.

“You bought me a shirt that literally just says ‘not straight, fuck you’ in pink sequins, Bruce.” Joel says.

“You wear that shirt a lot, though.” Bruce argues. “You say it’s like your second favourite shirt.”

“My first favourite was the one that you stretched out.” Joel counters and Bruce literally leaves the table just to end the argument.

Matt sits in the passenger seat the next day, Elyse driving next to him (Joel is loudly voicing his opinions from the back seat about how he should be driving and James reminding him that he literally can not drive), and his phone is chiming out the directions when needed.

They drive to San Francisco and when they pull up outside of an art museum, Bruce starts elbowing all of them, grinning and mouthing ‘art heist’ behind Matt’s back.

They buy day passes at the door and walk in.

It’s a pretty gallery, lots of art and paintings and sculptures, and each of them know a little more about the time era something was done in or the fashion in the paintings or how it’s historically inaccurate. Joel’s contributions can mostly be boiled down to him staring at the artist's name, and then saying “Mmm, I remember them. Had a really soft bed.” or something along those lines. Elyse has to take him out of the room when a group of children come in on a school field trip. 

They’re all waiting for a cue from Matt, a word, a motion, something to let them know to pull out their guns and let the havoc rain down, but Matt just seems to be looking at the paintings, admiring them and studying them. 

They’re in another room in the weirdly big building and Sean is explaining how a painting of a jousting pair is inaccurate because of form and footwork and even the swords and he sounds so offended that it’s been messed up so badly and Adam is grinning just listening to him talk. Then he glances around and Matt is no longer next to him, he’s on the other side of the room staring up at a painting of the Carnivale in Venice. It’s a big painting, a ballroom filled with dancing people and falling fabric, but the focus is on a small girl? Boy? It’s hard to tell, but they’re standing in the middle of the room filled with people in fancy clothes and glittering jewelry and the kid is clad in torn rags smeared with, well, it’s either dirt or blood, Adam isn’t sure. And this kid may be wearing dirty clothing, but they have the most ornate mask covering their face, white and intricate and painted with swirling gold and silver and jewels forming the eyebrows and crimson like blood painted on for the lips. The eyes are pitch black and Adam can’t tell if they are the eyes of the mask or the eyes of the child. It’s an intriguing painting, he can understand why Matt is staring at it.

“Carnivale.” Matt breathes and Adam glances at him, but Matt hasn’t torn his gaze away from the painting. “Means ‘farewell to flesh’. Met less cannibals than I expected, only three.”

“Three is still a lot.” Adam points out and Matt blinks.

“Yeah. They were part of a… Something. A cult. Nice, though.” Matt remarks. He’s still looking at the painting, can’t seem to look away from the painting.

“What was it like, though?” Adam asks and his world narrows down to just the two of them and the painting, he can’t hear Sean’s voice any longer, he can’t focus on anything outside of this bubble. “I’ve always wanted to go.”

“It was… Pretty. Lots of water. I can’t go back, but… Good. It was good.” Matt says. “Nice. No one knew who I was. No one cared. Lots of fire.”

“Yeah?” Adam breaths and Matt nods. “Do you like this painting?” Matt nods again.

“Very… Real. Lots of children, orphans, in it all. Trying to steal. Lots of difference between the two classes.” Matt takes a breath. “Beautiful.” His thoughts are disjointed, coming out of order, but somehow Adam understands every word that he utters.

“Guys!” A voice calls from somewhere and the bubble bursts and Adam looks around. They are alone in the room now and James is waving to them from the doorway. “Let’s go, there’s another exhibit Elyse wants to see.” Adam takes Matt’s hand and they walk out. He looks back one last time at the painting. It doesn’t seem real.

They don’t end up stealing any paintings that day and Elyse has to tell Matt that if he wanted them to come here with him, he could have just asked. Adam does, however, go back to the gallery a week and a half later and take the painting of the child in Venice, just for Matt to have.

They’re doing a heist roughly a month after the painting shows up in the apartment, an actual heist this time, not a trip to an art gallery or some stupid plan concocted with dice involving eighteen sheep, seventy-one Granny Smith apples, and eight rocket launchers. Adam has his back pressed to Elyse and she fires off round after round at the security guards and police that are trying to flood the doors.

“Are we all good?” Bruce’s voice crackles through the coms.

“Elyse and I are fine for now.” Adam says, shouldering the bag of cash further up. “We’re about to run to the back. Joel, you ready for us?”

“Yep! Sean and James are already here, I can see Bruce, once you guys are here we’re gonna-” There’s a noise over the coms, a quick intake of breath and the beginning of a syllable and then nothing. “What was that? Adam, you two still good?”

“Yeah, we’re fine.” Elyse says, shooting a cop in the shoulder. “Matt? Matt, are you alright? Just make some noise if you can’t talk right now.” There’s silence.

“Shit, we lost Matt.” James breathes. “Alright, you two come, we’ll meet up with him back at the apartment.” Elyse nods at Adam and they split immediately, running to the back exit.

Matt isn’t there when they get back.

“His regen time might just be slow. Or he could still be trying to find his way back.” Bruce reassures, but Adam can’t tell who he’s trying to comfort in this situation.

Matt doesn’t come back that night. They’re all on edge, there’s a tension you could cut with a knife. Elyse is pacing up and down the hallway far into the early hours of the morning before the footsteps stop. Adam carries her to bed.

Matt’s not back the next day and no one seems to be able to talk, a cloud of silence hanging over the apartment, heavy and choking and thick. It’s weird, so off, so different to the normal bustle in the apartment, and Adam can’t help but wonder if this is what it was like when he was gone. He hopes not. 

The doorbell rings that evening, the sun is setting, city black and gold and dark beneath them, and the crew falls over themselves to answer it, running to the door with their hearts in their throats because is it Matt? Is he back?

It is Matt.

No one moves.

They stare back and forth at each other. 

Matt has his arms wrapped around himself, shivering.

He pitches forward, suddenly, and Bruce catches him. Matt clings to Bruce’s shirt, taking shuddering breaths.

“Cold.” He says, voice breaking. “It was s-so cold. And dark. And- and- and I can’t do that again.” Bruce shushes him.

“We know, we know, it’s okay. Don’t worry about it, Matt. You’re okay now.” Bruce murmurs and Matt grips Bruce’s shirt tighter, eyes blown wide.

“You don’t understand.” His voice is shaking, he’s trembling like a leaf. “It was so close to me, it was so close, Bruce, it almost had me. The next time- The next time, Bruce… I don’t think I’m coming back.”

There’s an agreement made in that split second, unspoken but acknowledged. Elyse takes Matt, carries him to the sofa and wraps him in every blanket she can find. He falls asleep and Elyse stays with him. Joel and James run from bedroom to bedroom, packing suitcases full of clothes. Lawrence types on his laptop in the dining room, forehead creased, emptying their bank accounts. Bruce goes around the apartment, pulling hidden guns and weapons from bookshelves and cabinets and shoving them into bags. Adam packs memories, pictures and trinkets and books and everything that they would miss if left behind. Sean stands in the hallway, still breaking, still breaking, looking like he will shatter under any touch.

They leave not long after that, piling themselves and their bags into their van and  _ leaving _ , Matt still asleep in the farthest back seat, head in Elyse’s lap.

It’s the middle of the night, green LED clock in the van reading 2:56 and it is glaringly bright in the dark.

They leave the city, they leave their life of crime and their legacy and their apartment.

Why?

Because Matt is more important to them than any of this, than anything. As long as they’re in the crime world, he’s in danger, so much danger, and he told them. Told them that the next time he dies, he’ll die for good. They can’t have that. Adam looks at them in the rear view mirror, at his family in the rear view mirror, at all the people he loves in the rear view mirror. 

He pulls onto the highway. They’re leaving the city and they’re not coming back. Fuck. They can’t come back, God, they can’t come back, Matt is in so much danger and Adam- Adam can’t even begin to think about death as never ending, about grieving for the death of a loved one, about Matt being…  _ Gone _ . He tightens his hand on the steering wheel.

Adam drives for thirteen hours, unwavering in progress, in motion. He can’t think about anything, won’t think about anything, he lets everything blur together in the silence. 

Bruce puts a hand on Adam’s shoulder and he jumps, snapping out of whatever trance he was in. The sun is hurting his eyes, glaringly bright, when did it become morning?

“Adam, honey, you need to sleep.” Bruce’s voice is soft, gentle.

“It’s fine.” Adam shakes his head. “I can keep driving, Bruce, I’m not tired.”

“Adam. You’re going to pull over the car and you are going to sleep, do you understand me?” Bruce asks and Adam grumbles, noncommittally. “Do you understand me?”

“Fine.” Adam pulls the car off to the side of the road. The others are asleep, soft breathing filling the van without the low thrum of the engine. He switches seats with Bruce and within seconds of sitting down again, he has blacked out.

Bruce drives to the Middle of Nowhere, Missouri before he makes the executive decision to stop in a sleepy little town tucked in a hollow where crime couldn’t follow them, where crime couldn’t find them.  

They buy a log house on the outskirts of the town, paid in cash up front.

This tiny, dreary town, it suits them, moves around them, pulling them into its structure like they’ve always been there. Frankly, it’s a little disconcerting to wake up under a new roof with a sun rising over a new horizon in a new town and feel like you’ve lived there all your life. Adam assumes that this is part of the charm of a small town, part of the allure, why people actually live in them. Well, either that or there’s some supernatural shit going down and he sure as hell isn’t getting into that.

They open a bakery as a front. It’s not quite a front, they’re not laundering money or scamming or anything, it’s just… A bakery. A way to occupy their time in the town. It’s on the main street, if it can even be called that, a couple of stores and shops and a restaurant and their bakery, and they get a good amount of traffic for the amount of people in the town.

There’s a group of old women who come into the shop every Sunday after they go to church and they’re weirdly nice, maybe it’s just how people act when they don’t live in Los Santos.  
“Hello, Adam!” Ms. McAndrews calls as she steps through the door with her posse. “And Elyse! How are you today?”

“We’re doing fine.” Elyse beams at her. “Would you like your usual again?”

“Eh, let’s switch it up a little. Raspberry danishes for all of us.” Ms. Ander requests. “And tell your little boyfriend that we want to see more of him! He’s cute.” The three women chuckle amongst themselves, nodding, and Adam flushes. He has no idea, not a single clue, how these eighty year old women somehow worked out that they were in a polyamorous relationship, but he’s not going to question it. Elyse nods and ducks into the back, coming out with her arm slung around Matt’s shoulders and her lips on his forehead. Okay, maybe that’s how they figured it out. Just maybe.

“Hello, Matt!” Ms. Russo waves at him. “How are you?”

“Fine.” Matt mumbles, blushing. Elyse snorts.

“He says fine when in fact! He thought up a recipe for a new pie this morning.” Elyse brags and Matt flushes more, shaking his head lightly.

“I swear, I will never understand how you and those others are so good at baking!” Ms. McAndrews laughs. “You’re better than anyone I’ve ever met.”

“I’ve had some experience.” Matt says, smiling, and Adam covers his mouth to keep from laughing. Elyse is grinning ear to ear. 

“I’ve had more years of experience than you, sonny, and you’re better than I’ll ever be.” Ms. Russo shakes her head. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say that you’re a reincarnated professional baker or something along those lines.”

“I’m afraid that I’m not reincarnated, but thank you.” Matt looks down. “I’m gonna go back to work. Have a nice day, ladies.” He ducks out from Elyse’s arm and scurries into the back.

“What a gentleman.” Ms. Ander smiles at the backroom that Matt disappeared into. They eat their danishes at a table by the window, discussing happenings around the town, when Mike and Andrea’s young nieces and nephews are coming to visit, what exactly they’re going to do for Cathy’s birthday party.

When they’re settling up their fee and getting ready to leave, Ms. Ander brings something up.

“Where’s Joel?” She asks, glancing around. “I had something to talk to him about.”

“Oh, he’s in the city with the others picking up stuff we need for this place. We’re the only three working today.” Adam says, gesturing to himself, Elyse, and the backroom where Matt is working. “But I can pass on a message.”

“Just tell him that the thrift shop is getting some new dresses and that he’d better come by quick before Holly snaps them up.” She elbows Ms. Russo, who huffs.

“It’s not my fault we have the same fashion sense!” Ms. Russo defends herself. Ms. Ander rolls her eyes.

“Don’t believe her.” She stage whispers. “She didn’t dress like this until Joel came around. Really though, cute vintage dresses. Tell Joel!” She sweeps out of the bakery with her friends in tow.

“I want to be like her when I grow up.” Elyse whispers and Adam snorts.

“Elyse, you’re over ten times older than she is.” Adam points out and she swats at him lightly.

“Shut  _ up _ , Adam, don’t ruin my dreams.” She says, laughing. 

She makes Joel go to the thrift store as soon as he gets back with the others. He comes back with exactly what Ms. Ander said there would be, vintage dresses.

It’s hard to believe that they’ve been in this town for two months. Time is ticking by so weirdly, so quickly at some points, so slowly at others. Adam doesn’t know if it’s just the town or a side effect of immortality. He doesn’t know if he wants to know, either. But they’re there, in the town, surrounded by the town, and they’re accepted in the town like they’ve always been there. Maybe they have been, in a weird, spiritual, metaphoric sense of self that includes the bubble verse theory and the human process of study. Adam doesn’t like to think about things like this, especially not when it’s three in the morning and he’s the only one up and he’s sitting in the kitchen with his head in his hands. He’s going to have millions of nights just like this one,  _ millions _ , and he can save this train of thought for one of those other nights. 

Maybe he’s depressed. He’s always been on the sad side, ever since he was little and his dog died and he didn’t cry because he knew that it was going to happen, but there was a chasm inside of him, yearning and yawing and wide, a fission that he has never been able to fill. It’s never been, well,  _ bad _ . Sure, he’s had sleepless nights and sleeping days, but that’s the life of an anxiety ridden insomniac, isn’t it? It’s fine. But maybe… Maybe this whole immortal thing jumpstarted it. He can find solace in the fact that it’s never been bad, never been suicidal bad, never been wanting to die bad, and it’s never going to get that bad, but there’s a certain sense of despair, a certain sense of betrayal, when Adam realises that he’s never going to have that choice, he won’t be able to  _ decide _ . He… He kind of needs that, a sense of control, and he takes a shuddering breath because he can already tell that these feelings will get worse with age. Fuck.

“Hey.” Adam jerks his head up and sees Joel in the doorway, pajama clad, arms crossed against his chest.

“What are you doing up?” Adam murmurs, voice soft, voice quiet, he can’t bring himself to be loud right now. Joel raises an eyebrow.

“I could hear your thoughts from the bedroom, Adam.” Joel says, walking towards him and leaning against the counter across from him. “What’s up?”

“It’s- It’s nothing. It’s stupid.” Adam sighs, scrubbing at his eyes with the back of his hand. “I’m fine.”

“Are you?” Joel asks and Adam bites his lip.

“I don’t know. I’m just… Thinking. About death. I never used to, I used to be fine with it, I used to never let it cross my mind and… Now that I can’t, it’s all I can think about.” He meets Joel’s eyes and they are so wide and warm and caring and Adam feels sick because he’s thinking about the end of his life with this man, oh my God, oh my God (it doesn’t make him want it any less, just feel revolted at the very idea of himself). “Joel, I don’t- I don’t know. I think I want it. I think I want to die. This is so dumb, this is so stupid. This is the inverted human dilemma, oh my God.” Adam laughs and it’s not light and happy, it’s bitter. So bitter. So dark. There’s silence as Joel looks at him, as Joel keeps his eyes on him.

“I understand.” Joel says and Adam’s first instinct is to laugh, but he doesn’t. “Believe me, okay? I do. I really, really do. These thoughts, they come with being a new immortal. Everyone here has had them, alright? It’s not abnormal. Some have even- Well, with some they’ve become more than thoughts.”

“With you?” Adam whispers and Joel winces, just barely, as if this was a story he didn’t want to tell. 

“Yeah.” Joel says, he’s not looking at Adam, Adam isn’t sure if he’s ever seen Joel not look at someone while he’s talking to them. “Yeah, with me. I didn’t die under the best circumstances the first time. My whole family was killed in fire. I don’t… I don’t remember anything about them except that they were there and the sound of their screams as they died. I woke up four days later in the wreckage of a life and at that moment it was like everything hated me and I ran. I hated everything for a long time. I hated people and I hated places and I hated being alone and I hated memories and I hated myself because why did I survive when the others didn’t, when my family didn’t, when my nine year old brother didn’t, when my mother didn’t? My second death came when I jumped off a cliff. And my third. And my fourth. And a lot more after that. I didn’t eat and I didn’t sleep and I didn’t take care of myself because I  _ didn’t _ care. I gave up when I couldn’t keep count anymore and I, I moved on. But not really, I just moved to a new place. I had already stopped keeping track of the years, I stopped a long time before any of the others did. I shouldn’t have, I should’ve kept better track, but I didn't. And I, I decided that I wasn’t going to be Joel anymore, I was going to be someone new and someone no one knew, so I wore dresses and I wasn’t me. I learned all the ‘feminine’ things and it worked and I fit in and I was sought after, which wasn’t something I was planning. Some dude asked for my hand in marriage and I flipped and I ran and I let myself die again. I didn’t care anymore. I didn’t stay around anywhere for long enough after that. Once I got tired of the people, of the town, of the place, I ended it and left. It was a routine. I don’t remember a lot after that, it blurs together, that happens when you get old, but I remember the blood.”

“Shit.” Adam murmurs, what other reaction is he supposed to have at this point?

“I switched between masculine and feminine a lot after that. Flip a coin choices, y’know? Except the coin was how likely something was to get me killed and I always took the one that was more likely. Things get a little clearer after I got to France, got an apprenticeship as a baker, and I just worked. I didn’t do anything else, I’m not sure if I could. And then I met Elyse with her hair done up and a long dress on and I complimented the stitching and she smiled at me and then we started talking. And we didn’t stop. We traded stories and we figured out together that we were immortal.” A small smile creeps onto Joel’s face. “It was a… Realization to figure out that there were more people like me. A big one. And then suddenly I didn’t feel as alone and I had Elyse and everything started looking up for the first time in my lives. She didn’t know about my past, about… What I’d done, and I intended to keep it that way. And then there was a fire, a big one, and it triggered something and all I could hear were screams and crying and I was back in that building with my family and Elyse found me sobbing in an alleyway and I told her, kind of involuntarily, but I did. And she made me promise to try not to and I promised and I realised that I loved her and that I couldn’t tell her because,  _ fuck _ . We stayed together for a good bit after that, a long time after that. We swapped roles a lot, I’d go out in dresses and she’d wear my clothes and it would work. Until it didn’t. I was out in one of Elyse’s dresses and I got cornered in an alley by these guys and, and things happened. One of them realised that I wasn’t a girl and called me a queer and he pulled a knife on me and I was so scared and I killed him. Adam, I killed him. I ran, I ran so fast, and none of the others followed, thank God. And I realised that I couldn’t stay with Elyse, I shouldn’t have stayed with Elyse and I ran home and I tore her dress and I left in on the table in our little apartment and I didn’t pack anything, I just. Left. No explanation, no nothing, just gone. I died again that night, on purpose. And I knew she was looking for me, and I knew that she had found out what happened when all the other men turned up dead in the river, but I couldn’t, couldn’t go back to her. And I ran. I didn’t stop running.”

“But you kept up with Elyse?” It’s half a statement, half a question, and fully too quiet.

“I kept tabs on Elyse.” Joel nods. “She turned to crime, I turned to crime, I followed her across the ocean and she had no idea. I found more immortals, but I stayed alone and then everything got worse again. I, there was a gang. A similar to situation to France. I was wearing a dress, they didn’t like it, and… Well, it got a bit worse than in that alley. I escaped, eventually, got the fuck out of Dodge. There was a fire and I- and I fell back into that cycle in Los Santos, I was stuck. Then Elyse was there, suddenly, and I thought that maybe, maybe she would help me again, she’d helped me last time, and I needed it so much. So, I did it one last time for good luck and left that package at your doorstep and then I met all of you. And I almost went back a couple of times, before we got together, and then after that I realised that it was okay. I shouldn’t be hung up on people I barely remember, I should be focusing on the people I love that will stay alive. You’ve just, you just have to ignore the thoughts, man. They don’t really stop, but just don’t let them take over. Distract yourself.” There’s a beat of silence, and then another, and another, and Joel looks up at Adam, finally meeting his eyes.

“I’m sorry.” Adam breathes and Joel shrugs.

“It was a long time ago. A long, long time ago. But I know what you’re going through. If you need someone to talk to, I’m here.” Joel’s eyes are wide and dark and there is something in them, something that Adam can’t quite make out. “I don’t want it to get as bad for you as it did for me.”

“Okay.” Adam nods and Joel smiles at him, straightening and stretching and making his way to the front door. He glances over his shoulder.

“You coming?” He asks and Adam blinks.

“To where?” Adam returns.

“To watch the sunrise.” Joel says like it was obvious and Adam nods and they walk out together. They watch the sunrise from a few blocks over, Joel’s arm on Adam’s shoulders and it’s… Nice. If he can have a million mornings like this, he’d suffer through the million nights.

The thoughts still come, of course they do, but Joel seems to have a built in alarm clock for this kind of thing and he’ll make Adam play gin rummy or learn how to bake something ridiculously complicated or learn how to say ‘I love you’ in a near forgotten language.

It’s okay.

They’re all okay. 

They’re fine.

The fact that Matt could die and leave them forever is in the back of their minds.

They don’t need to think about it.

Okay, maybe they’re slightly worse than okay.

They don’t need to think about that either.

A series of storms hit the town with a ferocity that Adam has never seen before. Sean doesn’t like the storms, hides under blankets with James and Bruce and doesn’t come out until the weather has blown over. Matt, on the other hand, weirdly loves them. He sits on the porch with his legs crossed and his hands pressed together and his eyes closed and he just… Stays. Elyse watches him from just inside the door, biting her lip, she is worried, Adam can see it in the way she’s standing, the way she’s holding her arms. Adam comes up behind her, pressing a quick kiss to her neck.

“He’s okay.” Adam whispers and lightning splits the sky in two and Adam’s thoughts fly back to that bible story of Jesus on the cross and how lightning split the temple of Jerusalem down the middle while Jesus cried for his father, for humanity, for the sins of those who acted against him and how even they should not be punished. Jesus Christ is sitting on his front porch. Elyse leans her head back, no longer looking at Matt, instead up at Adam.

“What are you thinking about?” She asks, voice soft. Thunder rumbles low and dark and heavy.

“Matt.” Adam answers and Elyse blinks.

“Yeah? What about him?” Her breath is warm on his jaw.

“Lightning split the temple of Jerusalem in half while Jesus stood dying and his family stood around him crying and Jesus begged for humanity to be spared. And Dismas the penitent thief apologized and vowed to make himself better and Gestas the impenitent thief asked why Jesus wasn’t saving himself.” Adam keeps his eyes trained on Matt. “Which one are we? What are we doing here while Matt is dying again?”

“I don’t think we’re either.” Elyse whispers. “We, we want him to live. We need him to live. Shit. We’re Gestas, aren’t we?” 

“I don’t know. Maybe.” Adam breathes out, fogging the glass of the door. “Maybe we’re Mary Magdalene and we washed his feet when we got him from the lake and now we’re just covering him in the spices, in the oils, the preparations to be buried. Because we know he’s going to die, but we still want the best for him. Or, fuck, maybe we’re Judas because this is our fault. It’s our fault he’s going to die for good and like Judas betrayed Jesus with a kiss, we did the same. Our love doomed him, Elyse, because there is nothing he wouldn’t do for us. He would die for us right now. Or maybe we’re Paul of Tarsus and we’re going to spread his legacy after he dies. Or we could be Lazarus and we could be who he saved, who he brought back to life with a wave of his hand and words and the rolling of a stone. Maybe we’re just the disciples because we would follow him to the ends of the earth, we would die for him, we’re so blindly in love with him. Fuck, Elyse, who are we?” Elyse looks up at him.

“We’re his family.” Elyse murmurs and more lightning splits the sky, Matt silhouetted against the grey clouds and Adam’s heart swells because Elyse is right. They aren’t people from Matt’s first life who he barely remembers, they are people from Matt’s last life and he will remember them until the day he dies for good. Adam isn’t crying and Elyse isn’t wiping the tears from his cheeks with a gentle touch, it just isn’t happening. 

They go for a walk later that week, all together, after the storms have passed. The river is swollen and pushing against its banks, brown from the mud and pieces of random flotsam that float down the rushing current. The ground is oversaturated, a thin layer of water covering everything and unable to sink downwards. Adam doesn’t miss how Matt walks the on the side farthest away from the roiling water and Adam doesn’t blame him, can’t really blame him.

They walk to the park. Well, it’s more like a patch of grass with some picnic tables and a swing set. That doesn’t stop Adam from thinking about that other day in another park with the airplane and it doesn’t stop James and Bruce and Lawrence from immediately rushing to the swings. Elyse and Sean sit down at one of the picnic tables, watching the three fight over the equipment. Adam stands behind them both and Matt paces around, just looking and watching. 

And then three things happen at once.

There’s a scream. 

There’s a splash.

Seven heads turn.

The first thing that Adam notices is that Matt is in the river, swimming with broad strokes that Adam didn’t know he could make. 

The second thing that Adam notices is that there’s a kid in the middle of the river, clinging to a log lodged between some rocks.

The third thing that Adam notices is that there is a dim roar like thunder even though the sky is a clear blue. 

And then Adam is running, dashing towards the river and he thinks that there’s someone behind him, but he isn’t sure. And then he’s in the river, wading up to his waist and Matt is swimming strongly back to the shore, kid in his hold and Adam reaches out as Matt gets closer.

The roar gets louder and Adam looks upriver. There is a wave of water, tall and white and foaming, descending upon them. Adam’s breath catches in his throat. It gets closer. He faces Matt again, reaching out, and Matt shoves the kid towards Adam. He grabs her, spinning around. James is behind him, he shoves her into his arms. The water is getting closer, so close, so close, and Adam turns again. Matt is floundering, eyes closed, hand outstretched, not breathing, he’s panicking now, Adam can see it and he reaches out. They can’t quite touch, not quite reaching and he shouts that to Matt, but he can’t even hear his own words over the din. Matt surges forward all at once and their fingers touch and Adam is about to close his hand and-

The water hits them.

There’s a hand on his collar, keeping him anchored, it’s probably James.

And Adam can’t breathe.

And Adam can’t see.

And Adam’s mind flashes back to that lake.

And Adam’s mind flashes back to Matt’s sunken body.

And then the water is gone.

And Adam is choking.

And James is rubbing his back.

And Adam looks up.

And Matt is gone.

Fuck, Matt is gone.

Matt.

Is. 

Gone.

And Adam sinks to his knees in the water.

And his tears join the river.

And he sobs.

Matt.

Is.

Gone.

It takes twenty minutes for four of them to pull him from the river. Sean has collapsed on the bank, head in his hands, sobbing. James is holding the little girl, phone under his ear as he talks to the police. 

Everything is a blur.

Red and blue lights, flashing, reflected off the water.

Crying parents and a crying girl.

A blanket draped over his shoulders.

Someone is snapping in his face, trying to talk to him.

He blinks, leans further into Elyse’s side.

_ Fuck _ .

He hears something about a search party and someone hands out flashlights.

Lawrence goes, Bruce goes, James goes, Joel goes.

Elyse drives him and Sean home and puts them to bed.

Adam can’t sleep, there’s water in his ears, there’s Matt’s voice in his ears.

God fucking damn it, Matt.

Why does he have to be gone?

Why does he have to be dead?

Why?

When Adam wakes up the next morning, there are five bodies sprawled next to him in bed and unfamiliar voices in the kitchen. He slides from the sheets, careful not to disrupt anyone. Bruce is standing in the kitchen, talking to the parents of the little girl Adam remembers from yesterday. Fucking yesterday.

“Hi, Bruce.” His voice is rough, raw, and Bruce turns, immediately. He rushes over to Adam’s side and wraps him in a hug. Adam buries his face in Bruce’s shoulder.

“Hi, Adam.” Bruce murmurs. “This is Alex and Maria, Alex is Mike’s brother and they’re here visiting. Charlotte ran away yesterday and ended up in the river.”

“Thank you for saving her.” Maria’s voice is delicate, wobbling. “I’m sorry about…”

“Matt.” Adam supplies, quickly. “His name was Matt. His name is Matt.” Maria nods, quickly.

“I’m sorry about Matt. We’re so grateful to him, Charlotte would be dead if it wasn’t for him.” Maria smiles sadly, her eyes are damp. “He was, he was afraid of water?”

“Yeah.” Adam’s voice shakes in a way that he doesn’t want it too. “He is. He had some bad experiences with it. Almost drowned. I didn’t even know he could swim.”

“He’s a very brave man.” Alex wraps an arm around Maria. “We just wanted to thank you and offer our condolences. If there’s anything you need, we’ll be happy to provide it.”

“Thank you.” Bruce says, nodding. “If you don’t mind, I think we’d like to be alone right now.”

“Of course.” Alex nods.

“And you’ll understand if I don’t show you to the door.” Bruce looks meaningfully down at Adam pressed against his chest and then back up. They brush past them, walking out, and the door clicks behind them. And Adam breaks, sobbing, and Bruce just holds him tighter, letting him snuffle and cry into his shirt. “It’s okay, Adam, it’s okay. Honey, it’s okay.”

“Did you- did you find anything last night?” Adam manages between laboured breaths.

“No. We didn’t find anything. We walked up and down both sides of the river and there was nothing. No body, no clothes, no nothing.” Bruce runs a hand down Adam’s spine, fingers trailing. “I thought we could find him. God, I- I thought that he’d be somewhere waiting for us. Fuck, Adam.” Bruce’s hands tighten their grip on his shirt. “I can’t believe he’s gone.” And Adam breaks again, like poorly stuck together ceramic slammed to the floor, and he can’t believe that he’s still crying, how can he be crying, he can’t remember the last time he cried this much. When was the last time he cried this much? He immediately thinks of when his father left and he can’t deal with that right now to top of all of this. His mind is screaming at him and Bruce is talking to him but it’s just blank noise and Adam can’t understand the words. He wonders if this is like what Matt heard when they first fished him out of that lake. Reality falls back to the ground like a plane crash, but with this there’s no warnings, no ‘fasten your seatbelts’ signs, no safety pamphlets, and Adam can’t  _ breathe _ . Bruce is whispering now and it’s still too loud and he is choking on nothing, choking on the water in his lungs, how is there still water in his lungs, the lake was so long ago, the lake was so  _ long _ ago, how is there still water in his lungs?

There is a hand on his face, a hand on his wrist, a hand around his throat, squeezing, and Adam can’t tell if that last one is real or not but it doesn’t really matter because he can’t breathe.

Someone else is whispering to him now, holding him up, hands roaming through his hair. It’s either Elyse or Joel because their skin has the same ivory soft touch and it’s probably Joel because right now Adam wants to die and Joel knows when he does so well.

He gets his breathing under control eventually, but there is still water sloshing in his lungs and it makes him sick. 

“Let’s go back to bed.” And he was right, it is Joel, hands still tight in his hair and he lets himself be lead back to the bedroom. 

Adam doesn’t know how long they stay in bed and he doesn’t really care. He doesn’t want to count anything right now, he doesn’t want to think of numbers. His mind supplies him with 1892 and he tells it to fuck right off. His mind counters with 2000 years and then 730,000 days and this is less time than it took Matt to finally die and he is only roughly 10,000 days into his time as an immortal and that’s at least 720,000 days left to go. 720,000 days without Matt. Seven hundred and twenty thousand days. Seven hundred and twenty thousand days. Seven hundred and twenty thousand days. This becomes a mantra, repeated in his head as he stares at the dark ceiling.

It’s been four days, Adam thinks, and he’s sitting at the dining room table with the others. They’re not talking, picking at their food from the ever growing supply of donated casseroles the town has given them. Sean has the answering machine in his lap, fiddling with the buttons and listening to message after message wishing them good luck in these trying times and offering them condolences.

“Will you turn that shit off?” Lawrence snaps and Sean freezes, hands tight around the machine. Lawrence sighs, bringing a hand up under his glasses to rub at his eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. It’s been a long day. Too long of a day and this just- I don’t want to think about it.” Sean nods slowly and stops the messages, putting the machine gently on the floor.  “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Sean breathes. “It’s okay.” Thunder rumbles above the house and Adam pushes his chair away from the table, muttering some bull shit excuse. He ducks outside, on the porch, leans against the railing as rain begins to pour. And Matt was out here in another storm not too long ago and Adam was thinking about the Bible and Matt being Jesus and selfless and if he didn’t already believe that, Matt sure as hell proved that in the river. And, fuck. What is Adam supposed to do without him? What are any of them supposed to do without Matt? Lightning strikes so close and Adam feels his hair stand on end and Adam wants nothing more in this moment than to die and th-

The door to the house slams and Joel is standing beside him, leaning against the railing.

“Hey.” Joel’s voice is rough and he puts a gentle hand on Adam’s shoulder. “You okay?”

“Stupid question.” Adam answers because it is, it’s so stupid, so, so stupid. How could he be okay right now? How is he supposed to feel right now? How is he supposed to be acting right now? How is he supposed to slow his racing mind so he can focus on what’s in front of him right now? “I’m just thinking.”

“About Matt.” Joel finishes.

“About Matt.” Adam nods and lightning cracks and Adam tenses. “What else am I supposed to be thinking about? Joel, we have to live without him. We can’t exactly get out of this mess. God, this is such a mess…”

“I know, Adam, I know. I mean, I don’t know what you’re supposed to be thinking about or what we’re supposed to be doing or even what what’s going to happen next. This isn’t a new experience for a lot of us, but it is for you. Matt is… He’s the first person you’ve really lost, isn’t he?” Joel asks and Adam, he hesitates before nodding because he didn’t even think about that. It hadn’t even crossed his mind. Fuck. “It’s… It doesn’t get better. But it does get easier, okay? It’ll all get easier.” Joel tucks Adam against his side and rain hits the ground harder and Adam wants to scream. He just wants to yell and shout and be angry, but he settles for tucking his face into Joel’s shirt instead.

He’s in the kitchen the next morning and there’s a cold cup of coffee beside him and a newspaper spread out in front of him and he’s thinking about Joel’s brother and something hits him like a train.

This is one of his first lives. He’s still in the single digits. Joel doesn’t remember his brother except for the knowledge that he had one and his screams. That was his first life. Joel doesn’t remember his face or his name or what he looked like, only the feeling of something absent.

This is one of his first lives. He’s going to forget Matt. Fuck, he’s going to forget Matt, oh my God, he’s not going to remember Matt, this is going to be one of the things that he looks back on and can’t remember what happened, only that something did. Someone taps him on the shoulder and he looks up to see Sean standing next to him.

“What’s wrong?” His voice is soft and his face is soft and his hands are trembling. Adam can’t tell Sean, he can’t, because what if Sean hasn’t thought about it? What if it hasn’t crossed his mind? Adam can’t be the one to tell him, can’t be the one to spark this all over again. Adam swallows. Takes Sean’s shaking hands in his own.

“A lot of things.” He admits and Sean bites his lip. “A lot of things.” And he pulls Sean closer to him and Sean melts against Adam’s side and for a split second, the tiniest moment, everything is fine. And then everything is not.

It’s been a week since Matt died. Seven days that simultaneously drag on and pass too quickly. It feels like it’s been forever since Adam saw Matt, but it also feels like he was there just five minutes ago and Adam still catches false glimpses of him creeping through the house.. Maybe it’s the immortal perception of time thing again, or maybe it’s just grief. Or a mix of the two. Probably a mix of the two. Their life still hasn’t gone back to normal yet and Adam had been half-hoping that it would, had been thinking that once they pass seven days a switch would be flicked and they’d be fine. It doesn’t work like that. Adam wishes it worked like that. 

They’re piled onto the couch in a tangle of limbs and they’re squished together and cramped, but there’s still an empty spot where Matt would be. Where Matt should be.

There’s a kid’s movie on in the background that nobody is really paying any attention to. Adam knows that they’re just delaying the inevitable, putting off talking about Matt’s funeral. He doesn’t… He doesn’t blame any of them, he doesn’t want to talk about it either, and there’s that tiny shred of hope that Matt might still be alive because nobody could find a body. It’s stupid and it’s irrational and Adam knows that there’s no chance of that, but it doesn’t stop him from thinking about it.

The doorbell chimes, loud and ringing and Elyse untangles herself from the pile and says that she’ll get it. Adam has his eyes closed and he listens as Elyse’s footsteps retreat. The door creaks open.

Elyse screams.

They’re up in a split second on their feet and ready. James has his fists out in front of him, it’s gut instinct, he can’t shake it, and then they’re falling over each other to get to the front door.

Elyse is shaking, hand over her mouth, and James grabs her, wrapping her in his arms and pressing a kiss to her forehead and then they look up, glare at who made Elyse scream.

Ms. Ander, Ms. Russo, and Ms. McAndrews are standing there, looking incredibly worried.

And there’s a body in their arms.

Matt is in their arms.

Adam is surprised that he doesn’t scream too.

They stand there, looking back and forth at each other, and Adam can feel Sean gripping his shirt and he can feel Joel tensing and he can almost taste the confusion in the air.

“What?” Bruce manages and Adam is glad that Bruce said something because he doesn’t think he can even make noise right now.

“We found your boyfriend, he washed up in our backyard a few days ago.” Ms. Ander is smiling and Adam wants to cry, how can she be smiling, how can she be smiling, he is going to cry. “We would’ve called, but all these storms knocked out our power and we haven’t been able to get it back yet. And he was in no state to be moved, I swear, not breathing and mostly dead.” 

“What?” And this time it’s Joel. 

“He’s still weak.” Ms. McAndrews looks down at him. “But he’s alive. I don’t know what you did before you came here, but he needs to start taking better care of his lives.”

“He’s alive?” Adam asks and his voice is shaking and he’s surprised that he made any noise, but, fuck. Matt. Matt is right there. Matt.

“Very much so, but also very weak. He doesn’t have his strength back yet.” Ms. Russo shakes her head.

“What do you mean? He said- he said that he was going to die forever.” Sean is trembling behind Adam. “He said that he was gone.”

“And he almost was. His soul was under a lot of stress and he very well could’ve not come back, but we’ve lived for a long time, honey. We know a thing or two about surviving.” Ms. Ander smiles at them. “The old-fashioned medicines were good at this and we picked up on the practices. We can teach you, make sure this doesn’t happen again.” 

And this, this is where Adam breaks and he’s pushing forward and he’s taking Matt in his arms and he’s feeling desperately, fingers on his weak pulse and hand on his slowly rising and falling chest. 

And this, this is where Adam cries and he’s sobbing and he’s tucking Matt tighter against his body and fuck, fuck, fuck, Matt is here and Matt is alive and Matt won’t die again, fuck, fuck, fuck, Matt is alive, oh my God, he’s alive, he’s alive and breathing and in Adam’s arms. And there are more of them. There are more immortals. Matt is still immortal. Oh my God, Matt.

The world kind of blurs after that and then he’s lying Matt in their bedroom and tucking the blankets up to his chin and he can hear Ms. Ander’s voice travelling down the hallway as she explains the properties of willow bark and liverwort to a very attentive Sean and Matt is there.

Matt is in the bed in front of him and Matt is where he belongs and he’s not dead, God, he’s not dead, he’s so alive, he’s so alive.

And there are problems they’re going to have to deal with, things that they’ve fixed before that they’re going to have to fix again, things that they’re going to have to talk about, but Matt is alive. Bruce wraps his arms around Adam’s waist and Adam leans backward into the touch, eyes still fixed on Matt, afraid that if he looks away Matt will disappear and he’ll wake up and this will all have been a dream.

But for right now, in this split second, in this tiny moment of their lives, everything is fine.

And Matt’s alive.

Matt is alive.

That’s all he needs.

Matt doesn’t wake up for three days and when he finally does, when his eyes finally open, when he’s finally semi-conscious again, the first words to fall from his lips are an apology. Adam cries again. It’s becoming more of a habit than he’d like to admit.

And Matt, Jesus Christ, Matt. He’s not okay again, he’s back to the panicked state, the anxious state, the ‘don’t trust anyone and can’t talk’ state. Adam catches him more than once in the kitchen, dry heaving, trying to get rid of something that isn’t there, like when he tilts his head, presses his ears, trying to get the water out. 

Sean spends more time with the older ladies, the immortals, it still surprises Adam that they’re immortals too, that there are others out there, but Sean comes home bursting with happiness and spouting facts about what flowers heal people and what flowers kill people and what exactly lichen is. Half the time he talks too fast for Adam to understand, but it’s so nice seeing Sean so excited about something so he nods along, smiling.

Matt, well, Matt gets better. It’s slow going and never have baby steps been so excruciatingly painful to see, but it’s happening. And he’s not dead, so that’s a big plus. 

It’s so good to have him back, it’s so good to have him back in their home and their arms and his spot on the couch and his chair at the dining room table.

It’s so good to have him back. 

It’s so worth it to have him back.

Things are fine again.

Things are going to be fine again.

“Joel, Joel honey, please step away from the grill you have no idea what you’re doing.” Elyse rushes up, pulling him back away. Joel makes an upset noise, but he goes, and Elyse sits him down with Adam, who laughs at the sight.

“You know I’m a baker, right. I can cook, Elyse.” Joel states, sounding affronted, but he’s still smiling. James scoffs, lounging back in one of the many deck chairs they have scattered around for their company.

“You said that about the bus too and look what happened.” James points out. 

“Okay look, it was a small crash! We repaired it!” Joel leans out of his seat. Adam grabs his collar, laughing still at the sight of the two. That’s when Lawrence chooses to come outside, working away on a laptop - probably doing financing or something equally as boring. It’s not quite needed but they have a long life ahead of them. Even their accumulated fortune will only stretch so far. 

“Joel, you totaled the bus. That bus was going to be so sweet and you totaled it.” He sits down, on the other side of Joel, lounging into the uncomfortable cushions (really, can’t they get outdoor cushions that are actually, cushioned? It can’t be that hard.) Adam falls back, listens to the bickering with an affectionate smile as they list off how cool the bus could have been and how sweet is a definitely outdated word Lawrence,  _ how could you still use it?!  _ Well, that one’s mostly Joel. Elyse throws the occasional word in, but she’s mostly occupied by cooking, sometimes placing the finished food onto plates besides her and sometimes threatening to personally fight any wasp that dares come close. Eventually, Sean appears, still in his pajamas despite it being evening now. He collapses on top of James, letting his head rest on his chest and almost instantly dozing off again. James points at him, shaking his head. Then finally it’s Bruce, who has Matt cradled in his arms and he’s also asleep. Apparently the two had been napping together. It should scare Adam that Matt is still healing but, it’s cute. Matt looks peaceful, curled into Bruce’s chest. It’s a difference from when he first saw the sight, from when they found Matt. Things are better now.

The doorbell rings barely a half hour later. Matt’s slightly more awake now, smiling and laughing at the jokes thrown around, making his own quips that Bruce often has to repeat for him, which paired with Bruce’s wheezing only makes them funnier. Sean jumps up to open the door, Joel following after him. They can hear the chatter even from the garden, Elyse waves her spatula. Then Sean is leading Ms. McAndrews in by the hand, already chatting away to the trio that they owe all of their lives too. 

The evening moves, sky blossoms and they’re still all laughing with each other. Elyse’s barbecue was wonderful and they all say so (especially Ms. Ander, in such flowery language that Elyse is left blushing for at least five minutes afterwards.) They go through topics like a wildfire does a forest, chatting about similarities, differences - everything in between - and it feels like there’s no end to the topics they can talk about. 

“Our boyfriend was Jesus!” Sean declares, reaching fully out of his chair and partially onto the floor to reach Matt. The chair tips over and he doesn’t even flinch, even if the other’s all laugh as he ends up in a tangle with James. 

“Suck it Westboro.” Joel mutters to himself, his head resting in Adam’s lap and his legs on top of Lawrence. Lawrence almost spits out his drink, flinging his laptop out of the way as he chokes. Joel looks up to him and winks.

“Oh, was that your first life?” Ms. Russo asks, smiling at Matt so wide that he blushes, nodding and hiding very slightly behind his sleeves. “I remember those times, you made such an impact! And your first life too!” 

“I think Spoole’s killed me twice.” Elyse admits, and it’s clearly something that she’s been thinking about, “That time in the colosseum, and you were Paulinus too, right? Kicked my ass as Boudicca.” Sean’s eyes go wide as he looks at Elyse, in complete shock at the news.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” He’s stood up to let James pick the chair up so he runs to Elyse, hugging her over Joel. She laughs, patting his back gently. 

“And Matt as Jesus, wow Sean, did you have a vendetta against us or something?” Lawrence adds and Sean squeaks, hands going up to his mouth.

“I didn’t know! I just found being Roman fun!” He exclaims, trying to defend himself. Adam laughs, remembering one of his school lessons.

“Surprised you weren’t a slave ‘cause of that ginger beard.” He says, a smirk on his face. Ms. Ander stands, puts an arm around Sean’s shoulders, and levels the two of them with iconic ‘not mad just disappointed’ stares. 

“Boys,” She starts, “are you bullying poor Sean here?” She asks, completely seriously and neither Lawrence nor Adam are able to quickly think of an answer. They can’t look away from the stare and Sean looks like a triumphant shit in her protection. 

“No, ma’am.” Adam answers, bowing his head. Lawrence quickly follows and then all four of the ladies are laughing. 

“Oh my gosh, can you stay forever? That was amazing.” Elyse beams at the trio as as Ms. Ander sits back down again, dropping Sean off as she does. Sean settles straight back into James’ lap, a chill in the air as it gets darker. 

“We don’t plan to go anywhere, we’ve lasted this long.” Ms. McAndrews answers and Elyse cheers. Adam looks around at them all. At Matt, slightly more sat up in Bruce’s arms, smiling at everyone and looking up, giving a brief smile to Bruce too. At Bruce, who smiles back, leans down and kisses him and Matt blushes once more. At Sean, eyes half lidded and nodding off, probably ready to fall asleep and not wake up until the morning (he would have before, if not for the arrival of his favourite nans.) At James, who’s look of infatuation at Sean is filled with so much love and adoration it spills around him, brightens the world in a way only love can. At Lawrence, laptop now on the floor to properly join in, hands gesturing wildly as he talks about his first death (at the hands of a Ford, by all things. Now that Adam’s thinking about it, though, it explains why he hates them.) At Elyse, who seems so much more wild now, her hair fluttering in the breeze and her eyes filled with life, excitement, watching Lawrence so intently as he talks. At Joel, who when Adam looks down, is already looking up at him. He reaches up, taps his nose and laughs. At their newly appointed grandmas, that bring new promises, a new breath of life to them all and their world, and a new hope that maybe, maybe there are  _ more.  _ And then Adam looks at himself, at the world around him, his wonderful partners and no, things aren’t perfect - things will never  _ be  _ perfect - but fuck, he doesn’t think he’d trade it for anything else.

Doesn’t think he ever will.

**Author's Note:**

> this is being posted to celebrate my one year of fanfic writing on ao3. a milestone, yeah? i'm also super happy to have this finished and up.  
> anyways! huge thanks to Lackyducks, co-author and contributor to much, much angst. probably too much angst.  
> find her on tumblr @ lackyducks.tumblr.com and you can find me @ taptaptapping.tumblr.com. feel free to hit me up with a follow or ask or if you just want to talk about this story, dude, i'm down.  
> this has a playlist too! http://8tracks.com/lackyducks/fuck-death-get-money  
> thanks for reading, guys, this has been a while ride


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